Concealed
by Kenjiro Minami
Summary: Man. I screwed up bad this year. I just know I did. If she ever found out... it'd be the end of our relationship. I just know it would be. I can't let that happen. Gods. I don't want to do this, but I don't have any other choice.
1. Chapter 1

"What do you mean you can't come visit this weekend?" Calla's voice asked from the other end of the line. "You always visit!"

I caught my ball with my left hand as it came back down towards my face, phone resting on the pillow next to my head on speaker as I laid on my bed. "My dad's taking us camping for some 'family bonding'." I told Calla, quoting "family bonding" even though she couldn't see me.

There were several long moments of silence from her end of the line before her soft voice spoke again. "Oh..." she said simply.

The disappointment in her voice hurt me, and I couldn't believe that I had just lied to her. But to say that at that moment would be just stupid, if you add it to the reason I was lying to her. Gods. If she knew why I lied to her, she would've been something furious. So I decided to continue with my lie.

"Yeah... sorry..." I said, trying to keep the guilt out of my voice. But if there was any, Calla didn't seem to notice it.

"It's okay, Jimmie."

The way she said the nickname she had given me made me feel even guiltier. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. Besides," Calla quickly added, interrupting me as I was about to talk. "It's important for you to spend time with your family. I can't take up all of your time."

I put a hand to my head and closed my eyes. I was lying to her so much... my parents weren't even home. The were out bowling with my siblings. They wouldn't be back till around two in the morning. The local competitions took forever. And they didn't take me because I had been caught trying to steal all of their soda and candy and had been permanently banned.

"Thanks for understanding, Cal." I managed to force out of my extreme guilt state. I couldn't believe that she hadn't caught me in my lie at that point. I had been lying to her for the past half hour as we talked. How had she not noticed?

Wait.

Half hour.

I opened my eyes and cast a glance at my digital clock. The red colors blazed 4:58 pm. I only had two minutes left till my ride was due to arrive. "Hey. Look, Cal. I gotta go now. I'll talk to you next week, okay?"

Calla let out a soft sigh. "Okay..." she responded softly. "I love you, Jimmie."

"Love you too, my pretty flower." I responded with equal softness. "I'll see you in a week, okay?"

"You better, Jimmie."

I couldn't help but to laugh at the way she said it. "Alright. I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay... have fun on your trip for me, okay?"

I winced at her words. I should have told her then that we weren't even going on a trip, that we had nothing planned together as a family till spring break, and that I was doing something completely different. But I didn't. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Because if I did, I'd hurt her. Not like what I was doing instead wasn't going to if she ever found out...

"Alrighty." I said after a few seconds. "I will. Bye, my flower."

"Bye Jimmie." Calla said with a soft sigh before hanging up the camp phone.

The line beeped several times in my ear before I picked up the phone and hit the end call button. I went to my picture library and pulled up a picture of her, one when she was smiling and laughing after I had tossed her off the dock during one of our walks. Calla Blu. My flower. My beautiful flower. I had promised myself that I would never lie to her, yet here I was, lying to her. Telling the biggest, most selfish, most consequential lie that I had ever told in all my eighteen years.

And I was telling it to her.

Gods.

Where did I go wrong?

...

 **Oh look. A short chapter for once. XD**

 **I don't own Calla. Once again, this character belongs to ScipioPB, and once again, you all should check her out.**

 **James is mine, though. He's my little son of Hermes. :3**


	2. Chapter 2

I paced around my room guiltily for two more hours before a honk sounded from outside my window. I stopped, all guilt vanishing as I wondered whether or not it was my ride, showing up late as per usual.

My silent question was answered when a voice called my name from outside. I set my phone on my bed and walked over to the window, opening it to see who all was out there. My eyes searched for awhile before they landed on a black convertible, stocked full of about ten people.

"Whatcha waitin' fo'?" The voice that had called my name called up again. "We gotta get goin'! The store 'bout to close, an' when i' does, 'e can' ge' our-"

"Jus' shuddup al'eady!" The driver snapped at the guy shouting up to my window. "The 'ole town don needa know what we doin', stupid."

"Yeah, 'ell 'hey ain't gonna care 'un bit, asshole. I shot a guy, 'unce, and 'is 'un dude ain't even gave a care 'bout it! And 'e saw da 'ole thang!"

I felt my eye twitch at the way they spoke to each other. Their sense of gramma really irked me. The talked as though they had never been to school before. But I knew that was wrong. They drove me to and from the local college everyday, and I had several classes with these imbeciles. The only time they didn't talk like an uneducated old man who had his teeth knocked out was when their parents were around. They called it "the rich tongue", where they spoke and acted like hooligans around each other, but acted civilized and well-mannered around their parents.

I mean, yeah, I'm just as rich as these guys, and I may act like a hooligan from time to time. But would I ever talk like that? Ha!

No.

My eyes landed on a blonde girl, whose brown eyes were looking up at me expectantly. I felt my insides churn, but I nodded. "Yeah. Give me a sec so I can get ready."

I closed my window before the people I called my friends could shout some more rebellious-rich slang up into my room. I walked towards my closet, whereupon I pulled out my street shoes (yes, I have multiple pairs of shoes for different things. I don't ask for it, my mom just makes me.) and slipped them on. Opening my bedroom door, I walked down the hall and to the stairs, sliding down the winding rail. With my family gone, I could do whatever the heck I wanted.

Ah. Freedom. It was a blissful thing to me back then.

I opened the door and was immediately greeted by a chilly Salem fall wind. I thought about going back inside to grab a coat, but the thought vanished when my name was shouted again. Closing and locking the door behind me, I made my way to the black vehicle.

The blonde I had noticed earlier began to shoo everybody away to clear a spot for me next to her. She smiled sweetly at me, ignoring the groans of complaints from the other guys in the car. I forced a small smile back as I hopped in and sat next to her.

Immediately she leaned over and kissed me. "You were starting to make me worry, Jimmie." She told me softly in my ear.

I pulled away at the name she used for me. "Don't call me that, Heather." I growled. Only Calla could call me that. Only my flower. Even though I still hated it when she did, I was not going to allow anybody else call me _Jimmie_. "You know how much I hate it."

She smiled sweetly and gave me another kiss on my lips. "Okay... _Jimmie._ "

I frowned and pulled out of the kiss, looking away. Heather made a noise of complaint as the convertible we were riding in pulled away from my house, but I ignored it. I wasn't about to pity her wanting to kiss me. Her calling me _Jimmie_ made me mad at her as it was. I wasn't going to dilute my anger with a kiss.

"James!" One of the guys in the car shouted. I blinked and looked up. We were parked in the middle of a relatively empty parking lot in front of a drug store. "Go do yo' thang, man!"

I sighed and pried myself away from Heather. Getting up, I hopped over a few people to leave the convertible. "Be careful, Jimmie!" Heather called after me. I waved my hand at her, brushing her words away as I began to make my way towards the drugstore.

"Grab us a 'ix pack!" One of the guys called from the car. "Eight o' 'em!"

"He'll grab as 'any as 'e 'an ge' us wi'ou' gettin' caught, idiot." Another guy said.

I ignored them as I continued to make my way towards the drugstore. I couldn't believe that I was doing this for them. That I've _been_ doing this ever since I met them. Te first time I had done this was at the camp for demigods, and the camp director had just about murdered me when he found out that I was to blame.

I pushed away all unease and opened the door to the drug store, entering it and preparing myself for the worst that was to come.

 **...**

 **So about updates on _this_ story. I'm going to be updating every Monday and Thursday. Okay? Okay. Peace.**


	3. Chapter 3

**i should probably start by assuring Skippy that none of these events in this story translate into the RP. X3**

 **...**

"James Sporters Lime," My mother said my name with fury. "What the hell were you doing out so late in the night that you didn't bother to leave a note?"

I hung my head as the officer next to me spoke. "He was caught shop-lifting. Again."

My mom reached out and flicked my recently broken nose. I let out a noise of pain and tried to back out of her reach, but the officer behind me pushed me back forward, thinking I was trying to get away. She flicked my nose again, and I raised my cuffed hands in an attempt for defense.

"Mom! Stop!" I cried. "It hurts!"

"I don't give a two face, flying piece of shit if it hurts." She growled through clenched teeth, though she did stop, much to my gratitude. She turned back to the officer. "What was he stealing this time?"

"Beer."

"Beer!" My mother repeated in exclamation. "James, you better be thrilled that I can't put my hands around your throat and strangle you right now with Officer Leary standing here."

I shied away further as Leary spoke again. "We're putting him under house arrest since he tried- and succeeded, in breaking out of our cell down at the station just over two hours ago."

"How long did it take for you to find him?"

"Over an hour."

"James!" My mother exclaimed. My step-dad - who was also my half brother through our sharedgodly parent, Hermes - came over to us to stop my mom from hitting me again.

"Anything else we need to know, officer?" My step-dad/brother asked.

Officer Leary nodded. "In fact, there is." He brought some papers that were in his hand that I had never noticed before up to read them. "Your son, James Lime, is to be put under and remain under house arrest for six months."

"Six months?!" I repeated in disbelief. "I didn't even make it out of the aisle, and I get SIX MONTHS ON HOUSE ARREST?"

Leary and my parents ignored my enraged outburst, and Leary continued to read off the papers in his hand. "There will be several officers posted around the premises at all times. If anyone is to enter the house who does not reside within it or on the property, the terms and conditions of their visitation must be pre-approved forty-eight hours in advance. Your son may not send nor receive calls, except for on Mondays, Friday's, and every other weekend. The time of each call may not exceed the thirty minutes, and they will be listened to by one of the officers on the premises at the time of the call."

"Unbelievable." I muttered. Calla was going to be extra pissed when she found out what I did this time. Officer Leary cast me a glance before he continued.

"He may only eat three meals a day, and use the facilities four times daily." Now they're going to dictate my eating and restroom needs? Who the hell did these people think they are? "Every time he uses the facility, he will be timed five minutes max, and will be accompanied by one of our officers." Great. No privacy when I do my business, either. Amazing.

"We will be posting an officer to accompany and stay within ten feet of your son at all times." Leary continued. "And he is not permitted anymore than twenty yards away from the property during the full length of his house arrest. This is also his final warning, given to him by our captain. If he is to make another offense to the state and government laws during or after the time of his house arrest, he will be sent to the state prison."

Wow. Only eighteen for two months, and I'm already being threatened to be sent to state.

Go team James!

"Any questions?" Office Leary asked my parents, handing them the papers he had just read.

I felt my mom's burning gaze turn to me, threatening to melt me from the inside out. "Is it too late to put him in the system to be somebody ELSE'S problem?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am."

"Then no... there aren't any questions."

Officer Leary nodded. "Officers will be posted around the area starting six a.m tomorrow morning." He informed my parents. He put some weird bangle things on my wrists before taking the cuffs off and leaving from our home. "Have a good day, Mister and Misses Lime." He called from the street before climbing into his police vehicle.

I remember when Leary used to be cool, back in high school, when I was a junior. He was a year older than me, so he was only there for a year before he graduated. But he had been fun to hang out with. And he was BLAST at parties. And now? Now he was lame, arresting me and all. What happened to the bro code? Did he seriously forget all about that? Lame! It's like I was never even his friend. Buddies stick together, Leary! They don't arrest each other! They let each other get away with things like shop lifting and skinny dipping in your neighbors pool.

I watched as he pulled away from the sidewalk out front of our massive house before finally turned towards my parents. Both were glaring at me scornfully, so I gave them small, sheepish smile.

"Get inside," my mother growled. "NOW."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi. Early update. I'm not sure if I'll be able to update tomorrow, so here's the chapter. :3**

Of course the first officer assigned to me had to be a woman. And of course she had to be drop-dead beautiful. And if course she claimed she wasn't interested in me.

I mean, seriously? Who _wasn't_ interested in me? I'm James Lime, for crying out loud! Most charming, lovable, handsome son of Hermes in all of history. I could steal anything, including the heart of a woman as beautiful as the one who currently said she "wasn't interested" in me.

I banged my head on the wall for the thousandth or so time, trying to control my horny-eighteen-year-old-male urges. I was bored out of my mind, and it had only been three hours since she arrived, making it nine in the morning. My ADHD was _killing_ me. I couldn't sit it was acting up so much. I had begged the beautiful officer to let me play my Xbox or PS4 to give my hands something to do, but she denied me every time I asked her about it (which was about six times every minute (I'm surprised she hadn't strangled me before she went on break. And the fact that she had returned _clearly_ said she was interested in me.)), and she snatched my 3DS right out of my hands when she caught me desperately trying to capture Reshiram in my Pokémon White version 2 (I guess me shouting "Just get in the damn ball already, you son of a bitch!" didn't help me get away with it...).

I even tried talking to her a couple of times, but she would either ignore me or tell me off. I tried getting her number, but she gave me a look of disgust before she turned back to whatever the hell she was doing. _And_ , to top it all off, she had a fruit salad with her, and absolutely _refused_ to give me even the smallest bite of it! You don't do that to a vegetarian! It's just not right!

"Mister Lime," she said to me as I banged my head on the wall again. "I understand that you are bored, but you can't take it out on the wall. You'll damage the internal structure of this exquisite place, and I assure you that your parents would not be happy about that."

I ignored her and continued to hit my head against the wall. My officer shook her head at my behavior and sat down on the couch behind me. When she sat, I banged my head against the wall one final time before stopping. I rested my head against the wall I had been hitting it against. My forehead was pounding after all the times I had hit it against the wall, and I could feel the spot beginning to slowly swell.

"Can I at least know your _name_?" I asked my officer after a few moments of resting my head on the wall. I glanced over at her to see her rolling her beautifully brown eyes.

"You never give up, do you?" She asked.

"If I did, I wouldn't be here right now."

"And if you did, I wouldn't have to suffer needing to babysit an adult right now, either." She countered.

I took great offense to that. " _Adult?_ Since when was I classified as an _adult_?"

"When you turned eighteen." She replied, no hint of humor in her voice.

"The only thing that changed when I turned eighteen was my right to vote legally!" I exclaimed.

The beautiful officer frowned. "Did you just admit to voting _illegally?_ "

I moved away from the wall, hands raised. "Hey, _you're_ the one who said it, not me, so I didn't admit to nuthin'."

She put her hands to her temples and rubbed them hard. "God. I am _really_ regretting declining that offer on the position in Portland. My life would be so much simpler right now if I hadn't."

"Actually, it wouldn't. The crime rates are higher in Portland than they are here in Salem. I'm, like, all the crime you guys get here. This, skinny, skeletal, flabby hunk of vegetarian meat right here." I told her.

She rubbed at her temples some more. "Samantha." She finally said after awhile.

"Samantha?" I repeated. I grinned. "That's a beautiful name for a woman as beautiful as you are."

"Would you _stop it_ already?" Samantha growled at me. "As I've said a thousand times before, _I'm not interested._ "

I frowned. "Why not?"

"I have a girlfriend."

My eyes widened at that. "I- uh... Well... Ah... This is awkward."

Samantha smirked at me. "Yeah. So, back off. Don't you have one, too?"

I nodded. "But that doesn't mean I can't notice beautiful women. She never said anything against that."

"Hmmm." Samantha hummed. She sprawled out on the couch. "Well, you're seriously not my type, even if I _was_ straight."

I gaped at that. How was I not her type? I was _everybody's_ type! "Well... that's a shame..." I muttered.

Silence fell between us, and after a few more minutes, I began to bang my head on the wall again. Samantha buried her face in her hands, moaning. "Lord, save me from this idiot now."


	5. Chapter 5

"Can I please make a call now?" I asked as soon as the clock changed to show twelve o'clock. Samantha had said I wouldn't be allowed to make a call until twelve, and I had to talk to Calla and try to explain why I wouldn't be able to go to Camp Phoenix this weekend.

"Go ahead." Samantha said carelessly. She brought out her phone and began to play on it.

I have her a look. "You're not going to listen to it? Leary said there had to be an officer listening to my conversation at all times whenever I made a call."

She returned my look with her own. "Do I seriously need to babysit you at all times? What are you going to do? Plan a terrorist attack? Detonate a bomb?"

"You never know what I might do." I responded with a shrug. "Heck. I don't even know till I do it. But don't get me wrong," I added quickly. "I like getting away with things, and I like it when other people break the rules."

Samantha huffed. "Whatever. Make your call." She glanced at the time. "You have till one."

"So now you're doubling my time? Samantha, you're a burning flame of-" I stopped when she glared at me. Nodding, I looked away. "Right. Not interested."

"Go make your stupid call."

"Yes ma'am!" I exclaimed, saluting her. I walked over to where our family landline was and picked up the phone. I dialed the camp number (which was quite difficult, mind you. It consisted of several sixes, nines, sevens, and ones, and my dyslexia kept getting the numbers mixed up) and waited for somebody to pick up.

"Camp Phoenix, this is Zavid talking." I heard the manticore camp director say. "How may I help you."

"Hey Zavid." I said less formally than the manticore.

"Oh. Bonjour, mon ami." Zavid said. I scowled. Why'd he always greet me with French? It's like he expected everybody to know it. "I didn't recognize the number. Sorry, James."

"S'alright." I told him. "How goes it at camp?"

"Everything is running smoothly. We've found several new demigods this week alone." He informed me. "Though I'm not going to like the summer numbers, I am albeit interested in how many campers we'll have by the end of this school year." I listened, pretending to be interested in what he said.

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay. That's cool." I said. "Hey. Is Calla there?"

Zavid chuckled, his laugh sounding like a rumbling purr from a tiger. "I knew you were going to ask that. It is, after all, what you always ask when you call." Somebody called his name from the other end. "One moment, mon amor! I'm talking to James." Zavid called back. It was probably Lorelei, if he was calling them "amor". I'm not sure what it meant, but it was probably something sappy if it was coming from Zavid.

I waited a few moments before deciding to ask again. "Well? Is she there, or not?"

"Oh! Yes! She is. But she is not to be disturbed at the moment. I have her resting up from an assault during capture the flag. A draugr got to her this game, and I fear if she is disturbed, she might not make a full recovery."

"What the hell is a draugr?"

Zavid sighed softly. "James. Honestly. Read up on your monsters."

"I promise I will if you tell me what a draugr is."

"I know you won't do that."

I couldn't help but to grin. "You know me so well."

"Oui. Sadly so, too."

"... so are you going to tell me what a draugr is?"

Zavid let out a soft sigh. "I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Nope. You don't want Calla to throw a fit when I die to one and she knew that you wouldn't tell me how to kill it, or what it was, would you?"

"You're too difficult, James." Zavid grumbled. He sighed. "Fine. A draugr is a dead, wrinkled body that has been possessed by a spirit. They usually protect treasure, placed there because nothing can kill them."

"So they're basically a zombie?" I asked.

"James."

"Yes, o great and wonderful Zavid who is the bestest best camp director in the world?"

He grunted. "First off, bestest is not a word, no matter what you may think. Secondly, pick up a book on monsters and read it. Zombies and draugrs are nothing alike. Thirdly, I am not about to be flattered by your coy tricks of flattery. What have you done this time?"

"Wow. You immediately assume that I've five something wrong because I try and complement you." I said sarcastically. "Love you too, Zavid."

"Gods. You're too much for me." Zavid grumbled. I heard him put a heavy hand on the desk he was at. "Whatever. I need to go now. Lorelei it's growing impatient."

"Ooo... How goes it between you two? Anything SPECIAL going on?"

"James?"

"Yup. Got it. Shut up. On it."

"Merci. Anything else about Calla you'd wish to know?"

I thought over it for awhile. "No. But can you tell her I love her?"

"Of course, mon ami." His name was called again. "I seriously need to go now. Adieu, mon ami."

"Peace, bro." I said before he hung up. Sighing, I put the phone down. Great. Calla was hurt, lying in the medical center now because of a stupid game of Capture the Flag. If I hadnt lied to do the stupid thing that got me stuck in my house for six months, i would have been there to protect her.

I looked over at Samantha, who was still playing on her phone. I opened my mouth, about to talk, when a knock sounded at the door.


	6. Chapter 6

My first cue as to who was behind the door was when I was tackled down to the ground, a pair of warm lips pressing against mine. My second cue was the vigor of the kiss from the person who had tackled me to the ground. My third was her peppy voice, high and excited like she had just eaten a jack load of candy.

"Hey James!" Heather exclaimed as soon as she pulled away.

"H-heather!" I exclaimed in shock. I sent a glance at Samantha, who was watching us with a raised eyebrow. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I got okayed to come by! I told them I was going to catch you up on your homework in the class."

I looked back to Samantha. She just shook her head before turning back to her phone. Looking back at Heather, I forced a small smile onto my face. "That's not what you're really going to do, is it?" I asked hesitantly.

She grinned. "Nope!"

Shaking my head, I pushed her off of me before standing. "I'm sorry, Heather, but I can't. I need to get caught up on my homework."

She pouted, not getting up off of the floor. "But _Jimmy!"_ She whined.

"No but's, Heather. I need to keep up in our classes." I surprised myself just as much as I was surprising her and Samantha at how mature I was being. "I don't want to fall too far behind."

Heather crossed her arms. "You're no fun on house arrest." She grumbled.

"House arrest isn't meant to be fun."

Samantha laughed from her position on the couch at that, and Heather finally took notice in my officer. She turned red with fury.

"Is _this_ why you won't have any fun with me? Because you're having fun with her?"

I quickly shook my head as Samantha laughed again. "Hon, I don't want your stupid man. I don't swing that way."

I gaped at what she called me. "I ain't stupid!" I exclaimed at the same time as Heather nodded and sarcastically said "Sure you don't."

Samantha ignored Heather and turned to me. "You sure sound that way with that kind of language." I flipped her off and she scowled. "Insulting an officer counts as an additional offense and get you into the state jail early, Mr. Lime." She said lowly.

Heather reached up and pulled my hand down quickly. She forced a small, venomous smile at Samantha as she did. "James, don't get on her bad side. I don't want you at state. Do you know how much further a drive that is for me?"

 _A nice, long, happy one where you can't touch me after you get there._ I thought with venom. But I smiled at her. "Sorry, H.E." I told her. She scowled.

"Don't call me that, Jimmy."

"Then don't call me Jimmy."

"I won't call you Jimmy if you don't call me H.E, _Jimmy."_

"I'll stop calling you H.E if you stop calling me Jimmy, _H.E_."

"Oh yeah? Well-"

"Oh my god you two!" Samantha exclaimed. "Are you two siblings or something?"

We both made a face at her. "No." We said at the same time.

Samantha scoffed. She gestured towards Heather. "Is this your girlfriend that you keep going off about?"

Before I could say no, that that was Calla that I kept talking about, Heather nodded vigorously. "Yep! And Jimmy loves me!"

Samantha scoffed. "Sure he does."

Heather frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, the girl he was talking about had brown hair. Not blonde like you." Samantha said. I began to shake my head quickly, trying to tell her to stop, but Samantha just kept going on. "And from the sounds of it, the girl he was talking about was _nice_. You, my dear, however pretty you may be, are not nice. From what I can tell, you are clingy, mean, pushy, awful, and nasty."

Heather blinked. She looked up at me, and I immediately stopped shaking my head. "Jimmy, is this true?"

"N-no! Of course it isn't!" I exclaimed. "Your hair is dirty blonde, isn't it?" I asked, even though it was obvious that it was.

She nodded, her brown eyes narrowing. "Of course it is, but how can you confuse it with brown?"

I shrugged helplessly. "It's closer to brown then it is to blonde, in my opinion, so I call it brown."

Samantha raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing as Heather grinned. "Okay!" She exclaimed. She got up off the floor and wrapped her arms around me, giving me a kiss. "We'll have fun later, right?" She asked.

"Uh... Sure..." I said uncertainly. "As long as you bring over my homework."

Heather nodded. "Okay!" She exclaimed again. "I'll do that. Just don't have any fun with _her."_ She sent a glare at Samantha, and she raised her hands defensively.

"Hey. I was one hundred percent serious when I said I swing the other way. I have a girlfriend and everything. I've even showed your Prince Charming over here the pictures."

I grimaced. She _had_ shown me pictures, and I wish she had provided me with eye bleach after she did. They were- ah... _questionable_ pictures. "She did." I mumbled.

Heather still didn't look convinced, but she nodded nonetheless. "I'll see you next week, Jimmy." She said before beginning to leave. I put my hand on the door.

"Au revoir, H.E." I said.

She turned around, a scowl on her face. "Don't call m-" I slammed and locked the door in her face before she could complain any further.

Samantha let lose the laughter she had been holding back. "How did you ever get stuck with _her_?" She asked, laughing.

I grunted. "I seriously have no idea."


	7. Chapter 7

**Yo... Update times are changing to Thursday's only. Sorry. I've gotten really busy (a.k.a lazy)**

 **...**

Two months. That's how long it's been. And I was already starving from boredom. I wanted to play some video games, talk to Calla, do something! But Samantha said I wasn't allowed to play games, and every time I called the camp, Zavid told me that Calla was still recovering from her attack. He had put her on the other end of the line for a few minutes, but I couldn't get anything out of her except delusional responses to all my questions and a jack load of giggling. So I let her go off on talking and laughing about her weird visions that she was having, wishing I could be there to help her but unable to, as I still had another four months on house arrest.

I sighed as I laid on my bed, Samantha in the chair she had brought up and filing her nails. I looked over at her and made a disgusted face. "Could you please not do that in my room? You're getting nail dust all over the place."

She gave me a hard glare. "Where else am I supposed to take care of my nails to make them look good?" She asked. "I can't just get up and leave you to do whatever the hell you wish to do. I've been assigned to keep guard on you, which means no letting you out of my sight. "

"Then go out into the hallway!" I exclaimed, waving my hand at her. "Keep my door open! Be a creeper and watch me take a nap! Just please stop getting that nasty stuff all over my floor!"

Samantha gave me the finger and continued to file her nails.

"That's not fair! Why are you allowed to insult me, but I'm not allowed to insult _you_?"

"Because I'm an officer."

"And I'm a citizen of the United States."

"And you need to abide by the laws because of it. And one of those laws states that anybody who is found guilty of insulting an officer receives a penalty given to them by the state of law."

I crossed my arms. "That's stupid."

"Yeah, well, you're stu-"

At that moment, the phone rang downstairs, interrupting her insult to me. As soon as it did, I darted out of my bedroom, ignoring Samantha as she shouted behind me. I practically fell down the stairs I ran down them so fast. When I reached the bottom, I spotted the phone and ran to it.

Of course, being as excited as I was, I forgot I hadn't cleaned up my mess from yesterday.

I tripped over my toy cars (yes, I still have those. Can't a guy play with toys every now and then?) and crashed into the table that the phone was on. It popped off the machine, and I heard a quite voice calling my name as I lay stunned on the ground. After a few moments, my mind cleared (only because Samantha was dying of laughter at my position), and I scrambled to find the phone. Picking it up, I pressed it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"James! What the heck took you so long to respond?"

Excitement grew inside of me at the voice on the other end of the line. "Cal?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed. "Now answer me why the hell it took you so long to get to the phone after it was picked up?"

"I fell."

She went silent for a few seconds, no doubt having the scene play through her mind, before she burst out into laughter. I scowled and waited for her laughing to die down, and when it eventually did, she spoke. "You fell?" She asked, still laughing a little.

I shuffled my feet, though I knew she couldn't see my embarrassed expression. "Yeah..."

"Gods, James. You're such an idiot." Calla laughed in response, and I shrugged.

"Well, I'm your idiot, so..."

She giggled. "True..."

I smiled and turned around to see Samantha still trying to gain control over her laughter from my epic fall. I stuck my tongue out at her before turning my attention back to the phone. "So how's your recovery gong?"

Calla sighed. "It's going slow. I feel like all I've done these past few days is sit around as the spirits prod and poke at me all day. I hate it. I want to do something for a change, you know?"

"Yeah. I completely understand. But... days? You've been in there for two months, Cal."

"... I have?"

I nodded before I remembered that I was talking to her on the phone. "Yeah. You have. I've tried talking to you over the phone, but all I got was random gibberish out of you."

I could just imagine her bushing intensely from that. "Oh, gods. I hope I didn't say anything too embarrassing."

"You didn't. Don't worry. You just kept talking about this weird fluffy unicorn dog gorilla thing that you said you kept seeing."

She chuckled. "I don't remember any of that."

"That draughr must've gotten you good, then."

"Draughr?"

"Yeah. It's what Zavid says attacked you."

Calla went silent for a few moments. I heard talking in the background, and she responded to it, pulling the phone away so I couldn't hear what was being said. I waited patiently for her to speak again.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy." She finally said. "I need to go now. When will you be visiting again?"

"I won't be able to for some time. My dad hurt his back, and I need to stay at home to help him." I lied smoothly, and I really wish I hadn't, because it was to her. My flower, my beautiful Calla, and I couldn't help to wince inwardly at the lie I had just told.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." She murmured sadly. She sighed. "Alright. Come by when you can, okay?"

"Sure thing, Cal." I replied.

"Alright, Jimmy. I love you."

I smiled. "I love you more, my flower." I responded cheesily.

She giggled. "Whatever. Call me again when you have the time." She told me before hanging up.

"I will." I said quietly to the killed line. Sighing, I set the phone down. Turning around, I gave Samantha a hard glare, who was staring at me like she expected me to do another stupid thing. "What are you staring at?" I growled before I flopped onto the couch.

"Oh... Um... Nothing. Nothing at all." Samantha said, starting to file her nails again.

"Yeah." I scoffed. "Whatever."


	8. Chapter 8

I hated it. I hated being cooped up in the house all the time. I was tempted to just go outside and dig my grave now to get needless suffering done and over with as quickly as possible. But Samantha wouldn't even let me go within ten feet of the shovel, always playing keep-away as I tried to get it. I mean, I didn't _really_ want to bury myself. I just wanted something to do!

So I sat inside, bored out of my mind and half tempted to chew my way out of my wrist bands that were ensuring the fact that I remained prisoner in my own home. _Just three more months, James,_ I told myself silently. _You can make it just three more months._

"Hey Samantha?" I suddenly said. My officer turned around and looked at me through narrowed eyes.

"What do you want now, twerp?"

"I was wondering if I could go outside." I replied, ignoring the fact that she had called me a _twerp_ yet again.

Samantha waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, sure. Go and bug some other city officer. But don't get too far away from the building, else those bracelets will trigger an alarm and we'll have to shoot you."

I grimaced at that bit of information. Biting my lip, I nodded. "Sure thing. Thanks for the warning, Sammy."

"Don't call me that, asshole."

"Love you, too, Sam!" I called behind me as I left my prison cell and into my front yard, closing the door behind me.

Breathing in the fresh air, I let out a sigh. It felt great to be outside again. Especially after three months of being cooped up with little Ms. I- Can't- Take- A- Joke- For- The- Life- Of- Me all day. Gods. She could get so annoying. And it was like my special son of Hermes tricks and charms didn't work on her! I could _never_ get away with _anything_ while she was watching me. I hated it! It's like she knew I was a son of Hermes and was just keeping an eye on my every move at every second…

The thought sent a shudder down my spine. No. Samantha wasn't a monster. I was sure of it. Although she _could_ be a clear sighted mortal…

Sighing, I kicked a rock into the driveway. One of the officers posted around that area looked up, and he waved at me. _Finally! A friendly face._ I thought as I made my way over to him. But before I could get to him, a figure made itself known as a blur at the edge of my vision, and I turned around just in time to see Heather about to barrel into me.

 _Gods. Not again_. I thought miserably as I braced myself for her. She flew into my arms and planted a large kiss on my lips. I couldn't help as my eyes closed and I wrapped my arms around her, deepening the kiss that she gave me. It felt good, kissing someone again. I haven't been able to for three months, and now I could. I finally started to see the benefits for having had accidentally leading the clingy girl on. She could fill in for Calla when she wasn't with me. She could be my savior from the gloom of my bored misery, giving me something to do instead of nothing to do. She could help my urges by-

 _No_. The word suddenly struck me, pulling me back to my senses and out of the murk that Heather had created around my mind with that kiss. My eyes flew open as I realized that I was still kissing Heather. _This isn't right. I want Calla, not her._ I quickly pulled away from Heather, dropping her onto the ground.

"Jimmy!" She exclaimed when I turned away from her. "What are you-"

"Don't do that again, Heather." I growled.

She looked confused by that. "Don't do what again?"

"Don't kiss me again."

"Why not?"

"Because-"

"James?" A small voice asked.

I turned around to see a girl with silky, dark black hair that reached her waist in soft curls with part of her hair braided at the top in a halo braid. Her bright blue eyes were wide open in shock, her face paled as horror washed over it. Immediately my stomach clenched as I looked at her, doing somersaults as I tried to form words in my mouth.

"C-Calla? What are you doing here?"

She ignored my words, looking at Heather and then back at me. "A-are you…?"

I looked at Heather and then back at Calla. "Am I…?" I finally realized what she was hinting at, and I immediately shook my head. "N-no!" I exclaimed, though I knew it was a lie. I _had_ been cheating on her, and she saw that, and I knew she knew that I had been by the disbelieving look in her beautiful blue eyes. Heather saw this, and a smile tugged at her lips. She reached up and pulled me in for another long, tense kiss. And I took it, unable to stop as my urges settled in again. I wanted so desperately to pull her close to me, to run my hands all over her and-

"James!" Calla exclaimed, pulling me back to my senses. My head snapped away from Heather's, our lips parting. I looked over to my beautiful flower, who I knew was no longer my flower anymore from the tears that glistened in her eyes. "How _could_ you?"

"Calla. I-I didn't mean to! _Please_! You have to understand!"

"You _promised_!" She cried. She pulled a ring off of her finger, one that had a blue diamond flower in the center, the band curling around it as though it were vines, and she held it out to me like it was poison to her touch. "You _gave_ _me_ your promise!"

"Suck up, bitch." Heather suddenly snarled. "He's _mine_ now."

Calla glared at the blonde girl next to me, resisting her tears. I couldn't help but to try one more time to get her to understand. "Please. Calla, I never meant for this to happen. I don't even know what's going on. Please. I love you, Calla. Please. Give me one mo-"

"You don't deserve another chance, James." Calla sobbed. "Gods. I thought you were different! I thought that maybe, possibly, that you were the one, but you aren't!"

"Calla…" I said her name sadly, felling tears prick my own eyes as I reached out to her.

"No!" She cried, pulling away from my touch. She threw the ring down that was still in her hand, getting it lost in the grass of my lawn. The flowers on the box that she was carrying wilted, petals drying and falling off before she threw it down, whatever was inside of it shattering like glass. She finally sent me a hateful glare with her bright blue eyes, tears still streaming down her face. "Don't talk to me again, James." She growled, voice wavering before she began to walk back towards the bus stop that was three blocks down, the one that I used to always walk her to at the end of every visit she made to me.

Finally my tears spilled, and Heather rested a hand on my arm before pulling me in for another kiss. And I let her. I was broken. I didn't care about the world anymore, so I might as well start caring about Heather. Calla didn't want me anymore, so I should shift my mind towards Heather. Take refuge in her arms since Calla didn't want me in hers any longer. Hold Heather in my own since Calla was now gone from mine, out of my reach of my thieving hands.

After a while, I pulled away from Heather and wiped at my eyes. "Let's take this inside." I told her before I spun around on my heels and went inside, giving her the option of following after me. And she did, excitement clear on her simple, less- beautiful- then- Calla's face.

 **...**

 **Oooo... Drama llama. :D**

 **Um... yea. Had to end it there because, as you all are probably gonna guess... James will in fact "pierce the veil", to put it lightly. *grimaces* Yeah. So he was caught, now he's being stupid with Heather and doing stupid stuff and his lifeis going down hill, blah blah blah. You all know this story. But you don't know** ** _this_** **one. ;3**


	9. Chapter 9

**Yooooo... So, this story is rated T for a reason... this chapter is one of those reasons, so... just a warning. :P**

 **...**

"Jimmy?" Heather asked, playing with my hair. It was night now, and Samantha had gone home for the rest of the day since my parents were now home. She didn't tell them that Heather was here, though, and for that I was extremely grateful of her for. There'd be no way I could explain why she was here, wearing only one of my large t-shirts and curled up beside me under my covers, resting her head on my bare chest.

"Yes?" I asked, not at all bothered that she had called me Jimmy. I didn't care anymore who called me "Jimmy". It used to be only for Calla to call me, but… she was gone now, so there was nobody left to call me that but Heather. And so I let her.

She ran a finger down my chest, feeling my line of symmetry, sending an electric thrill down my body at her touch. I felt like she was trying to cut me precisely in half, drinking up all of my secrets and hidden lies. And at that moment I was willing to tell them, even to her. "Who was the girl that left?"

"The girl…?" I repeated, mind clouded. Heather nodded her head, and I remembered how Calla had thrown down the ring I had given to her and the box she was bringing me. They were still there in my yard, and if they weren't, then somebody had picked them up. "Oh. That girl. She's not important." _At least not anymore…_ I thought miserably.

"Mmm…" Heather swirled her finger on my chest. "What'd she mean when she said you gave her your promise?"

"Nothing." I lied. "It's just some petty childhood thing we had going on." _Childhood thing? Really, James?_ I mentally slapped myself at that. I had only known Calla for about a year and a half, and I decided to call it a _petty childhood thing?_ Gods. I'm such an idiot.

Heather's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But you haven't been living here that long. Did she, like, move with you or something?"

I sighed. "It's complicated, Heather." I murmured. "Please, can we just stop talking about it?" Okay. Maybe I wasn't prepared to spill out all of my secrets and hidden lies to Heather. I sure as heck didn't want to tell her about all of those wonderful moments I had shared with Calla. She'd leave me if I did, I know she would.

Heather nodded. "Alright, Jimmy. I guess we can. But…"

Now it was turn for _my_ brows to furrow in confusion. "But what?"

"But first tell me you love me and not her."

I blinked my amber eyes. _Love Heather…?_ I thought. I bit my lip before forcing a small smile onto my face. I rolled over till I was on top of Heather and gave her a deep kiss. After a few moments she pulled away, putting a hand to my chest.

"Jimmy, I'm serious. Tell me you love me."

"Don't I show it enough…?" I asked.

Her face took on an angry look. "So you don't love me? You're just using me? Is that it?"

I inwardly winced at her words. They were true. I _was_ using her. I was using her for my own selfish needs and desires because I loved Calla too much to ask her to do fill them for me. But Calla didn't love me anymore, so that just left Heather to love me. So I might as well love Heather now… Right?

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers again, and her anger melted away as she returned it. I pulled her close to me and deepened the kiss, clouding my mind as she wrapped her hands around my back and assisted me in pulling her close. We stayed like that for a few moments before I finally pulled away. "I love you, Heather." I whispered strongly, not really sure what I was saying at that moment my mind was so clouded. "I love you, and only you and I don't love Calla. I never did, and I never will."

Heather smiled sweetly. "I love you, too, Jimmy."

I couldn't believe that I had said that. It didn't seem like something I would say. And I didn't even know I had said it till Heather said it back, and horror churned my insides violently. I had never said those three words except to my family and Calla. I felt like Heather had manipulated me into saying it to her. But I guess it was also my fault, too. If I wasn't so desperate to satisfy my needs, to wait for the right person to come along and be the first to satisfy them, I wouldn't be there, under the covers with Heather, telling her that I loved her when I really didn't, and never would.

I wanted so desperately to take it back, to say that I loved Calla and not Heather. But I couldn't, because Calla was gone. She was out of my reach forever.

So I took what I had and smiled, leaning back in to Heather and teasing her with a small kiss to her cheek, corners of our lips grazing. Heather let out a soft whine at that, turning her head to try and chase my teasing lips, the very same lips that used to kiss Calla lovingly, meaningfully instead of blindly like they were with Samantha.

At that thought, my heart ached again, and I accepted Heather's kiss, using it to distract me from my internal pain. And I melted into her, pretending that she was Calla and that I actually loved the blonde, clingy, rude, disrespectful, and over all foul girl. I pretended that Calla was still here with me, understanding and still loving me. I pretended that she didn't just break up with me, because if I didn't, I would have probably done something I immensely regretted.

…

Who am I kidding? I already regretted doing everything I had ever done this year away from camp. I wanted so desperately to turn back the clock, prevent Heather from ever kissing me with Calla standing right there, prevent myself from ever kissing Heather that first time. Prevent myself from ever looking at Heather and hope that if I hadn't ever looked at her that she wouldn't have thought that I could possibly like her.

But the one thing I wanted to go back in time and prevent the most was my father meeting my mom. Maybe then, if they hadn't met, I wouldn't have been born to have broken Calla's heart like so many guys before me. She wouldn't have met me, and I wouldn't have fallen in love with her. And if I hadn't fallen in love with her, I wouldn't have tried so hard to win her heart, and wouldn't have given her that ring as my promise that I'd marry her in the future. If I hadn't done all of those things, Calla wouldn't be hurt right now, and I wouldn't be doing these stupid things with Heather. I wouldn't have to feel empty and hollow and trying to fix that by making love to a woman I didn't even love. I wouldn't be tempted to take Samantha's warning about going too far away from the house and get shot just so I'd get to stop suffering.

My thoughts were depressing, so unlike all of my happy thoughts that I used to think before that day, when Calla still loved me. But I had to keep strong, stay strong for Calla. I had to try and win her back, even if it took forever for me to get my flower back.

 _She's_ my _flower_. I thought. _I love her, and I'm going to stay strong for her, even if she doesn't want me anymore._

I didn't know how long I could go thinking that, but I was going to try. For me. For Calla. For _us_.


	10. Chapter 10

"Zavid, _please._ I'm _begging_ you. _Please_ get Calla to talk to me." I begged through the phone the following week. I had been trying day after day to reach Calla, but she kept ignoring every summoning Zavid sent her. She kept ignoring _me,_ the guy she used to love. The boy, not the man. Because if I were a man, I wouldn't have been so quick to break her heart, just like a foolish boy would. But I was going to be a man now, to win her back, even if it took until the next lifetime. And I was going to remain a man, not revert to the foolish boy I was, once I had her back in my arms.

"Mon ami, I cannot make her do something she does not wish to do." Zavid responded tartly. "And I understand perfectly why she doesn't want to talk to you."

My heart grew heavy at that. "She told you, didn't she?"

"That she did." Zavid half growled. I could picture him, standing there with the phone to his ear, trying hard not to crush it as his bicolored eyes flashed dangerously. I didn't need to see him to know that that was what he was doing. "I don't even know if _I_ can talk to you, knowing what you did."

I winced. Zavid protected the campers with his life, even if they were personal affairs. Even though the camp director was a half monster, half titan "mutt", as the gods called him, he still loved and adored each and every one of Camp Phoenix' campers.

Except me, now.

"Please, Zavid. I'm begging you. I just-"

"Mister Lime, I must say no to your request." I winced again when he used my last name to address me. Zavid never did that unless he didn't consider anybody his "ami", his friend. Which meant he just demoted me from friend to stranger in a second.

"Zavid..."

"Dont 'Zavid' me, Mister Lime. You deserved everything that Mon ami Calla delivered to you." He scoffed. "Hell. You deserved much worse. If I were her, I would have added a good couple hundred bites to it."

I grimaced. I'd been bitten by Zavid before, when he had snapped from the scent of blood. It hurt like hell, like bees were stinging me from the inside out. "Please no." I whimpered pitifully.

Zavid huffed. "I don't see why I shouldn't." He went silent for a few moments. "Mister Lime, I'm going to have to ban you from camp to avoid potential future conflict among campers."

"What?!" I exclaimed in ridicule. "You can't do that!"

"I can, and I did." He growled lowly.

"Zavid, I'm a demigod! I _belong_ at that camp! Think of the torturing my father will do to you a-"

"I've already spoken to that devil Hermes, and he agrees with me. He gave me full permission to ban you from camp."

I was shocked beyond compare. Never before had I been banned from a camp. Never before had my father _agreed_ to banning me from something. I mean, it's Hermes we're talking about! He gets banned from all sorts of things! But _agreeing_ to banning _me,_ his _son,_ from something as big as a camp for _demigods?_ Unbelievable!

I decided to try pleading one more time. "Zavid, _please._ I _need_ to go to camp. You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly, Mister Lime." Zavid growled. "Good luck fending off the monsters." He told me before hanging up the phone.

I stood there for awhile, killed line buzzing in my ear, shocked and on the verge of tears. Finally, after awhile, the phone dropped from my hand, and I fell with it, slidding down the wall I was leaning on till I was sitting. Drawing my knees to my chest, I began to cry.

 **...**

 **SHORT CHAPTER. :D**

 **But hey. At least I updated, right? :3**


	11. Chapter 11

"Jimmy!"

Heathers voice hissed in my ear, disturbing my sleep. I groggily lifted my head from my desk, blinking against the light of the classroom.

"Um... uh... Yes...?" I asked sleepily.

She smacked my arm with her pencil. "Mister Hinsberg just asked you a question!" She hissed once more.

I jumped in my seat, looking frantically around the room. "Hey did?!" I didn't mean to shout it, and the teachers look became more agitated than it was before.

"James Lime," he said lowly. "if you aren't going to pay attention and _sleep_ in my class, then you can tell your parents that they wasted their money for you to be here. Now, answer the question written on the board."

I squinted my eyes to see it better from my position in the back of the class, trying to read the board. "What is the formula used to find the hypotenuse of a right triangle...?'" I read before I frowned. "Um... y plus b equals x...?"

Mister Hinsberg let out an irritated noise. "Mister Lime, if you can't remember the formula for something you learned in middle school, maybe you should start there again."

"Well, I'm sorry! Not everybo- Ow! What the hell, Heather?!"

Heather set her pencil back on the table before raising her hand. "May I answer, sir?" She asked innocently as though she hadn't just tried to murder me with her pencil in front of our teacher.

He nodded. "Yes, Heather. Please do."

She gave me a glance as I grumbled in my seat before she spoke. "The Pythagorean theorem is what is used to find the hypotenuse of any given right triangle. The formula used is 'a squared plus b squared equals c squared'."

"What I don't understand," I interrupted before the professor could speak again. "is why we have to square them, when the two numbers squared equals the number we're trying to get squared. Can't we just add them together?"

Mister Hinsberg shook his head. "No. And here's why..." He dove into a long shpewl about why we can't do what I asked, most of which I didn't pay attention to, and fell asleep to once more.

...

"How was your first day back, honey?" My mom asked as I came through the door.

I grunted. " _Terrible_. I got yelled at for not understanding math."

My mom shrugged. "Should have been studying during your house arrest."

"Mom, since when did I ever _study_? Studying is for geeks. I'm _geeky_ , but not a geek. I'm going out with some friends, so I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

She frowned slightly before nodding. "Alright. Be back before midnight. And _not_ with Officer Leary."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my car keys. "Sure thing, mom. See you before then." I said before jogging back outside and to my car. Opening the door, I slid into my seat. I adjusted my side mirrors and went to adjust the rear view mirror, only to stop at what was on it.

A picture of a girl, a teen, almost my age, maybe a couple months younger. Her silky black hair was done in the fashion of some weird braid that allowed some of her hair to fall in soft curls behind her. Her bright blue eyes shone with happiness, a smile bright on her pale skin. She was beautiful, but I didn't know her name. I didn't know why I had a picture of this beautiful girl in my car.

Grabbing the picture from it's place on the mirror, I brought it down so I could look at it better. I turned it over, looking for some indication for who this girl was, but there was none. So I turned it back so that I could see her face again, and I stared at it. And the longer I stared at the beautiful girls face, the more I felt like I should know her. But whatever memories I had of her I couldn't recall, so I shrugged off the unsettling sense of deja vu and put the picture in the glove box before turning on the car and peeling out of my driveway, heading for Heather's house.


	12. Chapter 12

After ten minutes of driving, I finally arrived at Heathers house. It took me awhile to get out, though. The picture of that girl that I had shoved into the glove box compartment before I had started driving had stayed imprinted in the back of my mind while I drove. I don't know why, but I felt like that picture had meant something to me at some point in time that I couldn't remember anymore. Maybe she was an older cousin? An aunt? Maybe the picture was older than I thought it was, and the memory of her was just too old for me to remember?

I didn't know, but it was really bugging me. So I pulled the picture back out, and continued to stare at it for an additional fifteen minutes. And once more, the longer I stared at her, the more I felt like I should know her. Recent memories of her, too. She didn't look like a cousin or an aunt. She didn't look related to me in any way. But yet...

Why couldn't I remember her?

Giving up on trying to figure it out, I shoved her picture into my pocket before turning off the car and climbing out, taking the keys with me. I decided that maybe I should ask Heather who the mysterious teen in the picture was. If she was a friend of Heathers, maybe that was how I knew her. But that wouldn't explain why I had her picture...

"Jimmy?" Heathers voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I blinked, not realizing that I had made it to the door and had knocked till she had said my name. I shook my sudden unease off before giving her a smile. "Hey, H.E." I said in response.

She frowned at the name I had given her. "Are you not going to come in?"

"Oh... Um... Yeah. Yeah, I'm coming in." I responded, still thinking about the picture that I had found in my car.

She frowned a little more. Heather leaned against the frame of the door, blocking the way so that I couldn't get in. I frowned at that, but before I could speak, she spoke up first. "Is there something that you're not telling me, Jimmy?" She asked.

I shook my head. "No... No. There's just... I found something, in my car."

"What was it?"

"A picture."

Heather's dirty blonde eyebrows shot up at that, and she looked interested. "Oh? A picture of what?"

"A girl."

"And... May I see this picture...?"

I nodded before pulling it out of my pocket and handing it to her. "I don't know who she is. I was thinking maybe you might know her...?"

Heather gave me a look before taking the picture. Her eyes narrowed when she looked at it, maybe in anger. I'm not sure. But the look quickly vanished to be replaced by a neutral expression. She handed the picture back.

"No. Sorry. I don't know her." She told me.

"Oh... well... Thanks for looking at it..." I murmured, accepting the picture back. I put it in my pocket, but Heather stopped me.

"Mind if I take it? I think I might have seen her in one of my classes."

I nodded, thinking that school might have been where I had seen the girl. "Yeah. You can take it." I gave the picture a final glance, still feeling a little deja vu every time I looked at her, before handing it off to Heather.

My girlfriend took it and put it in her pocket a little more forcefully than I would have liked. She gave me a flirtatious smile once it was in her pocket, and I gave her a smile back. "Ready for tonight?"

I nodded. "We need to pick up the others, first, though. So get in the car."

Heather nodded, a smile still on her face. She walked past me and to my car, getting in the front passenger seat. As she passed, my mind fogged a little, but soon cleared. I blinked, forgetting what we had been talking about and why I had been standing at the door for so long. I frowned before following her, pulling my keys out of my pocket and getting in the car before driving off.


	13. Chapter 13

"Are you going to summer camp this year, James?" My step- dad- slash- brother asked me the next day.

I blinked in confusion. "Summer camp? I've never been to a summer camp before, Jason. Why would I be going to one _now_ , while I'm in _college_?"

It was Jasons turn to blink in confusion, then. "Yes, you have, James. You went for two years."

"... I did?"

My step- dad frowned, and something passed over his eyes before he shook his head. "No, no. Never mind. That must have been your sisters... Never mind. Keep doing your homework."

I frowned slightly as I recognized the mist at work. But Jason didn't seem to notice its effects on him, even though he was a demigod, too. And I soon forgot about it, too. Almost immediately, as soon as the thought about the mist went through my head, I forgot about it.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Probably. I mean, Judith, Jaden, and Janis have been going to summer camps every summer since each one has been old enough to go."

Lies.

"Yeah, I guess they have..."

All lies.

"Hey, have you seen Heather?" I suddenly asked my step dad. "She hasn't called me in a while, and I've been getting a little worried."

"No. But didn't you guys just talk yesterday?"

It had been all day, actually, and we hadn't talked, at least not about what I had wanted to talk about. We talked about... other things. Like Heather expecting. Gods, that had freaked me out. A father at nineteen I'm sure that that would freak anyone out. And we... may or may not have had sex, again. I'm not sure how many times we've had it. It's just... been a lot, especially since my house arrest had been finished. I... couldn't really help it, especially when Heather asked. Whatever Heather asked me to do, I had to do. I just... got this _really_ strong urge to do it. Like, I couldn't control it, sort of strong urge. My mind went blank, or something. Something happened, and I couldn't stop it. Not when it came to Heather.

I just... didn't understand it.

Forcing a smile on my face, I shook my head. "No, no. We didn't talk yesterday. I was hanging out with my other friends."

Even more lies, but at least this one I had meant to tell.

"Oh?" Jason started to busy himself making us lunch. "Was one of them Calla, by any chance?"

I blinked my eyes, furrowing my brows. "Wh-"

"You know, I always liked that girl," Jason continued, ignoring me when I tried to talk. "You two were pretty great together. Every weekend you two would be together, and every weekend, you were bright and you actually spent your money on her _willingly_. This Heather girl? I feel like she forces you to spend your money on her." Jason eyed me a little, cutting up the cheese for the grilled cheese sandwiches he was making us. "Does she force you to do these things? If she is, what else is she getting you to do?"

I gapped at him, mouth moving but making no sound. After a while, I managed to speak.

"Wh-who's... Who's _Calla_?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay you guys. This chapter may be a little weird for some of you. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

 **...**

Jason caught me up. On everything. It made me queasy how much he had to catch me up on. I'm not going to relay it all now. I first need to end everything with Heather, because she ruined my life. All the lost memories of Calla, my ex-girlfriend. Ex because of Heather. She had kissed me, in front of her, and I had cried, and that had been the day I had lost my virginity. Because of Heather. It was all because of Heather. I forgot everything about Calla, the girl in the photo. That was her name... Calla. She didn't go to our college. No. She went elsewhere. She went to a college out of state, now. To stay away from me. I had to get her back. Tell her it wasn't my fault.

Who am I kidding. It was all my fault. I had let Heather seduce me. I had let Heather trick me into having sex with her that first time. That was when I had forgotten everything about Calla.

I pounded on my girlfriends door. "Heather!" I called into her house. "We need to talk! Now!"

Something upstairs fell, landing with a hard thud. It sounded like something else had fallen and had broke on impact as well, because something else shattered. I heard a loud hiss, and immediately I started to panic. What if that was Heather? What if my child was hurt in the fall? Oh gods. I can't end it with Heather. That's a jerk move, especially since I got her pregnant...

I pounded on the door again. "Heather! Please! Answer me!"

I kept pounding for several more minutes before the latch was finally undone. The door opened, but what I was met with wasn't my girlfriend. Well, I mean it was, but her eyes were pitch black. No white, just pitch black, like a demon's eyes on one of those weird television shows.

"Jimmy!" My suddenly possessed girlfriend exclaimed. She was grinning madly, revealing sharp teeth in her mouth. Like a shark. My girlfriend was suddenly a possessed, shark, human... thing. "I'm so happy you've come along. You know, I've just about needed your services. Actually, I was thinking about you, and then... Poof! there you are! What a coincidence, right?"

I tried my best not to notice her teeth, but my eyes kept straying to them. "Uh... Y-yeah. A... coincidence. Um... Mind if I-I ask you... uh... Wha... What... uh..."

"Oh, what am I?" Heather asked innocently. "Jimmy, come take a seat, why don't you, and we can talk over some things..."

The rest of her words were drowned out as my body took command of itself. I found myself walking into her home, stiff-legged and otherwise dead inside my own body as I listened to her suggestion against my will. The door closed behind me, and Heather rested a hand on my shoulder, guiding me to the kitchen where two, old corpse's lay, shriveled, but their eyes still fresh and gooey, staring at whatever horrors they might have seen. And, to make matters worse for myself and to make me want to throw up, it seemed like their eyes were following Heather and I as we made our way through the dining room and into the living room.

"Take a seat, Jimmy, okay?" Heather asked me sweetly, and I did. I took a seat on the couch.

"Don't... don't call me that, H.E," I told her, straining to speak under her spell. "Only... only..." Only what? Or was it only who? Only Calla. I remembered. Only Calla could call me that. "That's... Only Cal... My flower..."

Heather let out a sharp hiss at that, but then her face returned to normal. Her eyes weren't even black anymore, and neither were her teeth sharp. She looked... human. I began to think that what I had seen was only a trick of the mind.

Smiling sweetly, Heather sat down in my lap, straddling me like she always did before we had sex. She leaned in to whisper in my ear, and her breath tickled me. This was new. She had never done this before. It sent shivers racing down my spine.

"Ever heard of a... succubus, Jimmy?" Heather asked before making a soft hissing sound in my ear.

A... a succubus? I couldn't voice the thought, but she knew by my silence that I had no clue what she was talking about.

"We... _live_ off of sex, Jimmy. Why do you think we have so much of it?"

 _Because you're a slut and... other choice words that are escaping me_ , I thought

She let out a hiss before her face twisted in hurt. "Jimmy, how could you think such things of me?!"

So she could read minds, too... Good, good... I didn't have to hurt myself trying to talk.

She continued. "I only do the things I do to survive, James. It's not my fault I am who I am. Just as it isn't your fault that you're a demigod."

My eyes widened at that, and I shoved Heather off of me. She flew to the floor, letting out a yelp when she landed. She looked up at me, her brown eyes wide. "How... How did you know?"

Heather chuckled. She licked her lips, tongue black, and wings came from her shoulder blades. Black, leathery, and, strangely, attractive wings. She got these horns on top of her head as well, as well as this demonic tail, pointed tip and all. Her eyes returned to pitch black, and her breasts... Gods. How did they get bigger...?

While my eyes were trained on her breasts (against my will, I must add. I wasn't one to stare at chests. I'm not a perv, for crying out loud), Heather crawled back into my lap. "Come on, Jimmy. Just one more time." Her tail snaked itself to my shirt and began trailing up it. "One more time is all I need. Son of Hermes, please. Do me just one more time."

"What if... What if I don't want to?" I asked, strained once more.

Heather thought about that for a couple of seconds. "Well, I definietly can't _kill_ you. We're tied together now, because of our child." She let out a purr-like sound and rubbed her slightly swollen stomach. "Which means that if you refuse, I'll just have to take it from you myself."

I bit my lip. "Wait wait wait. So... What... what does it mean... if... if I die...?"

"I die too," Heather responded, tilting her head.

"And... if you die alone?"

"You lose half of your life." She grinned maliciously. "Either way, I win. And I know you couldn't _possibly_ kill your own child. Not when they're still unborn, or at all, really. So, succumb to me, James Sporters Lime, or I'll take you myself."

She licked my cheek with her forked tongue, and it sent shivers down my spine. Shivers of disgust, but she must have thought that they were shivers telling her that she had seduced me, because Heather grinned. She pressed herself onto me, starting to kiss me deeply, and that was when the only thing I could think of doing popped into my head. It was risky. It could kill both of us, but I didn't care. I didn't want to live the rest of my life like this, holed up with a succubus, producing half monster, quarter god, quarter human offsprings. That wasn't a good life. I should never have met Heather. I should have stayed with Calla... I should have been stronger.

Bringing my hands up, I brought Heather closer to me, one hand, my right hand, the one I wore my watch, positioned right above her heart. She pulled away from the deep kiss she had me snared in, grinning. But her grin didn't last for long, for my watch turned into my sword, and coldness went through both of us. Straight through both of our hearts.

"J-Jimmy..." Heather gasped, clutching at her chest. She tried to pull away, but I dug my sword in deeper into both of us, using me as the thing that trapped her in it. I ignored all the pain, all the shock of what I had just done as I watched Heather crumble away to dust, slowly but surely, and then...

There was nothing.


	15. Chapter 15

I opened my eyes to find myself sitting on the curb of the sidewalk. I had my DS in my hands, and I was playing Pokemon. I was halfway through a battle against Team Plasma. I must have fallen asleep...

Sighing, I closed my gaming system, seeing the light lashing in the corner saying it was about to die. I looked around as I stood. Nothing seemed familiar. Nothing ever seemed familiar these days. I don't know why. The only thing that was familiar was my house on the corner of the street. It was... odd, to say the least. My house, and... Calla's. I'm not sure why those were the only two things that looked familiar. They just did. I couldn't explain it. It was... sort of like what Heather had been able to do with my mind. I didn't like it, but I lived with it.

I eyed the tree that I had been sitting under, the leaves a dark green. The trunk was a shade lighter than I remembered that kind of tree trunk being. I mean... I _think_ I remembered tree trunk shades correctly. I didn't spend much time looking at trees. I wouldn't know if this one looked correct or not. Guess that was my problem, but me thinking about it made my head hurt, and I stopped thinking about the color of the tree once it started hurting.

Glancing towards Calla's house, my gut tightened. Would she accept my apology? I doubt she ever would, but it was good to try, right? FOr once I wouldn't run from my problems. I was going to apologize, and not expect her to take me back. Maybe even show her my two scars from when I had stabbed my sword straight through myself to kill Heather, for proof that what I told her was truth and not fiction. I wouldn't tell her that I almost died, that the doctors had _expected_ me to die, and had only continued working on me because my family has lots of money and my mom had promised them that we would donate two thousand dollars a year if they saved my life. I wouldn't tell her that. She didn't need to worry about me. She _shouldn't_ worry about me. Not after all the pain I caused her...

I blinked when I found myself suddenly at Calla's door. I didn't remember walking there. But... then again, I didn't remember much these days. There were quite a lot of moments when I'd lose consciousness, but my body would continue moving on its own, heading towards the destination I had in mind. It was weird, but convenient for me. My walks were long and boring. I didn't have to suffer through them when it happened. But, for once, I wanted to be conscious during my walk. I wanted to think through everything I was going to tell Calla, but now I couldn't.

Sighing, I knocked on the door. I waited a couple of moments before Calla opened the door. She looked the same as she had last year, the last time I had seen her. Beautiful as ever. Gods, how I had missed that beauty. I wanted nothing more than to hug Calla again, tell her that I was terribly sorry. I didn't care if she took me back or not... She shouldn't take me back. I just had to clear it off my chest or however the saying goes and let her know I'm sorry.

"Ca-"

I didn't even get the chance to say her name fully before her arms were thrown around me. I stumbled back in surprise, almost falling over as the shock of it made my heart miss a couple of beats. Hesitantly I wrapped my arms around Calla.

"I forgive you," she cried.

"You...?" I trailed off, trying to remember if I had already told her what I wanted to say. I must have done that. There was no other explanation on why she had forgiven me so quickly. I was tempted to look up at the sky to see if the sun had slipped further along the blue above, but there was the porch roof in my way, so I didn't. I just must have blacked out or something while I talked. That made the most sense...

Calla nodded. "Yes. Yes, I-I forgive you. I-I know you didn't mean to. I-I know, Jimmy. Please. Don't do it again."

I furrowed my eyebrows, still confused. Calla had never forgiven me for doing something bad, something that would hurt her, as quickly as she just had. "Calla, are... Are you alright...?" I dared to ask her that question, even though her tears were a clear sign she wasn't.

But regardless, she nodded. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine."

Suddenly, she wasn't crying anymore. It made no sense to me. How could she suddenly stop crying like that? It made no sense to me. Maybe I had blacked out again...

Finally, I had the feeling that I really should be looking at the sky right now, so I removed my arms from around Calla and stepped back to do just so. Looking up, I scanned the crystal blue sky for the sun, but found none. I furrowed my brow in confusion, and as soon as I thought about it, one appeared, marking noon in the sky. I grew uneasy, and looked at Calla, finally noticing that her face was a little blurry, in the places where I didn't know much detail, like her ears, or how her hair was styled around her face. They were blurry, or fuzzy,more like.

"Calla, what's going on?"

She frowned slightly, and the corners of her mouth blurred before solidifying once more. "What do you mean, James? Nothing is happening. Are you okay?" She tried reaching out for me, but I took a step away, shaking my head.

"No no no no no no no no no no no no. No. Something isn't right here. There wasn't a sun a couple seconds ago. Your ears are fuzzy. The time has been consistently the same for hours. My watch has stopped, see?"

I raised my hand when I said that, and showed Calla my unticking watch. I hadn't even consciously realized that it hadn't been working for some time, and blinked after I saw my hand raised. Calla frowned slightly, and I looked at it with her. The second hand didn't move for a long while, seconds that I had silently counted, before it started ticking.

"Seems to be working to me," Calla said. She looked up at me. "James, should I be concerned right now? Are you running a fever?"

I barely heard her, my eyes trained on the moving clock hands, wide open in disbelief. I tried to figure out why the watch started working again, when I had finally noticed it not ticking, and an answer finally dawwned on me after a few short moments.

"This isn't real," I breathed.

Calla leaned in closer to try and hear what I had said. "What?"

"This... none of it... You... you aren't... The watch isn't... None of it is... It's all in my head. I'm... not really here. You aren't really here." I turned to her, pained to have come to that realization. "You didn't really forgive me. You arent the real Calla, are you?"

Calla furrowed her brows. "James, how could you say that? I'm real, see?" She took my hand in hers and squeezed it. "I forgave you."

"No!" I jerked away from Calla's touch. "I just thought you up. You aren't real. Watch. I-I'll think of you as Heather, a-and you're going to turn into her. Just watch!" I closed my eyes and thought real hard about it, about Calla not being Calla, but Heather instead. But when I opened my eyes, Calla was still there, scowling at me. "I-it didn't..."

"Of course it didn't work," Calla growled, except it wasn't in her voice. It was Heathers. And she realized that, because her eyes widened, and her hands flew over her mouth, squeaking in shock.

"Ha!" I exclaimed, pointing. "See? See? You aren't real! You're all in my head!"

Calla opened her mouth to speak, removing her hands away from her mouth to do so clearly, but no words came out. She furrowed her eyebrows and tried again, but still she was mute. I was just as confused as she was, until everything in the world started to crumble away to dust, starting with the sky and quickly moving down. I started to panic instead, wanting more time with Calla, even if she was fake. Any Calla would do. I just wanted Calla...

Reaching out a hand, I tried to grab hold of her as the dust quickly descended upon us. I grazed her hand, looked into her eyes filled with a fear that was deep and genuine, even though she was fake, before she and everything in the world crumbled away, making emptiness all I knew.


	16. Chapter 16

"...how-...When will he-...Yes..."

The voice of my mother slowly came into focus, as well as the consistent beeping of a heart monitor. As these two things came to be more clear to my fuddled mind, more sounds started to resonate from around me. Someone in the room was pacing, another tapping a pen against paper. There were people out in the hall, walking, talking, and more heart monitors. There was a close dripping sound, somewhere to my right, and the wind blew through the window, playing with the drawn back curtains to allow natural light to flood the room.

There were some tubes, all over me. Or at least it felt like all over me. Some sort of mask was on my face, it's purpose I could only assume was to regulate my breathing. None of this I could see quite yet. I had no will over my eyelids, or maybe I did and I just didn't know. But I wanted to listen, see what I could hear before I moved.

"Jason, where are the girls right now?"

That was my mom speaking.

"At school," my stepdad replied.

" _School?_ " I could just imagine my mom turning red with fury when Jason said that. "Their brother is lying in a bed in the _hospital,_ potentially _dying,_ and you have them in _school?_ Are you _serious_ right now?"

Someone took a step back, and I could only assume it to be Jason, trying to put distance between himself and my mothers fueled anger. "Look, I just thought that they might need a distraction, okay? I think we all need a distraction. What's it been, now? A week?"

"Oh you heartless little-!" My mother cut herself off, drawing in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. She turned away from my stepdad and grabbed my hand, holding it gently.

"Heartless? I'm not being heartless. Doctors say there's no chance of recovery, so I just thought a little distraction for them would be good. They don't need to watch their brother die in a hospital. That just wouldn't be good for them. It wouldn't be good for _anyone_. It wouldn't help him get better, and it just makes us all a bit more sad each time we see him."

No chance of recovery? Wait a minute. Heather had said that half of my life would be taken from me, not that I would die on the hospital bed. Did she lie?

My mom sighed in defeat, a clear sign that she knew Jason was right. "I know, but... We need to be there for him. He's gone through so much... And poor Heather, too... He lost her in that car crash... And then we discover that he has heart cancer on top of that? Idiot boy, keeping that from us. He must have felt _something_ , surely? And he's gone so long with it..."

 _Cancer_? Whoa whoa whoa. Hold the phone here. I got _cancer?_ _Heart cancer?_ And, according to my currently already grieving mother over here, I've had it for quite some time. What the hell is _this_? I got _no_ cancer, let alone any _heart cancer_. This is complete _bull!_ I'm calling BS! Tossing all my cards onto the _fucking_ table, because this is some _serious_ bullshit right here. B- fucking - S. Fuck that.

Jason sighed. "What's he got? Two, three months, they said, right?"

"Yeah..."

Oh no. No no no no no no no no no. No no no. I need more time than that. I need more time! I need to get Calla back. I need to tell her how much I love her, how much she meant to me, and how big of a mistake I had made letting Heather manipulate me like that- that damned succubus. I need more time! Gods... I hope this is all just a cruel trick my sisters and Jason had set up, because this all has to be a lie. I'm not dying. I got no heart cancer! There's nothing wrong with me! ... Well, besides where I stabbed through myself to kill Heather, but that's an easy heal! Proper treatment and dressing, it won't get an infection, and I'll be free to go with no blood poisoning or infection! Gods... Please all be a lie...

My step-father sighed again. "Poor kid... This shouldn't be happening to him..."

"This shouldn't happen to _anyone_."

"Agreed."

The door to whatever hospital room I was in opened, and someone new walked in. "Sir," the new person said, addressing Jason, "ma'am. Visiting hours are drawing to a close. I request you both to be out of here within the next five minutes."

"Five minutes...?" My mom repeated, seeming like she hadn't fully heard him. Either that, or she was trying not to cry. But I knew then and there that it wasn't all a lie when I heard her speak the way she had. She never sounded like that unless something truly terrible had happened, nor would she pull a prank like this on me. My mom just wasn't like that.

"Yes, ma'am. Five minutes. You may come back at nine a.m tomorrow morning if you so desire. But until then, I must ask you both to leave these premises."

"Of course," Jason responded, walking over to my mom. "We'll leave right away. Come on, Joyce. Let's go."

"Wait! I need to tell him I love him..." Lips pressed themselves against my forehead. Warm, soft, and full, filled with more life in them than I had left. "Stay strong, James. Don't let these numbers get to you. Live longer than they expect you to. Prove to them that they are _wrong_ and that a Lime _never_ quits so early on in their life. Do that for me, baby. _Please_."

Oh, mother. I hate to sound so sappy, but I'm trying. I'm really trying. For you, for me, and for everyone else. All the people I love and care about, and even those that hate me to no end...

"Sir, ma'am, please leave now."

""Of course," Jason responded. "We're leaving now. Come, Joyce. We'll come back to see him tomorrow."

My moms hand left mine, and they both walked out of my room, my mother sniffling the whole way and trying to hold her composure as she went. Gods, I'm glad I hadn't opened my eyes. It would have killed me to see her in such a state... Heather hadn't meant half of my remaining life when she had said what she had, which is what I had thought she meant. She meant half of my total life. My over all life. What? Twenty years, just gone... Apparently thats how long I was going to live. Forty, short, miserable years. Gods. Now I wish I hadn't killed Heather... Then I wouldn't be here, dying, and hurting my family more than I hurt myself doing so.

I fucked this up. I fucked this whole thing up real bad.


	17. Chapter 17

I began to steadily notice the pain in my chest as the days went by. It hurt. It felt like I was dying. Maybe because I was. But it hurt. My heart hurt so much... Gods, the irony in that. It hurt both emotionally and physically... What great luck I have. And to think, after losing Calla, my life couldn't get much worse. But no. The Fates had to test my tolerance of pain in every form and give me freaking heart cancer. Gods...

A couple weeks later, after I learned about my cancer and that I was soon to die, I was released from the hospital. Mom took me home immediately, where a cake and black jelly beans awaited me. It appeared as though my mom had made it herself, the ribbon frosting on the edges a bit shaky, but made with as much love as she could make it with. I figured the cake didn't taste terribly good, considering my mom had baked it and such, and she wasn't the best of bakers, or cooks for that matter, but I tried my best to eat my filling of it, thanking her before heading up to my room. I figured I might as well pack everything up so my mom wouldn't have to go through the additional emotional trauma of needing to go through her dead sons stuff and either putting it in the attic or selling it after I passed away. She didn't need that in her life. None of my family did.

So I went upstairs to pack everything, moving as quickly as any person my age with heart cancer could, if anyone got heart cancer at the age of twenty, that is.

Shit. I didn't even make it to legal drinking age! Man. What's the fun in life if you can't enter a bar before you die? I mean, not that I would do much of that, but just the experience of being able to get into a bar, order something, and drink it without being kicked out after showing the bartender an illegal I.D. is an experience that I had really wanted to have. Like, take my girl out there or something and party. Have my birthday at a bar. Yeah, I could quite possibly easily make the drinks myself for way cheaper, or I guess more like my moneys worth if I bought all the things for the drinks myself, but I'll never even get to experience a bar! This just isn't fair!

I entered my room slowly, grumbling about how unfair the whole bar situation was for me as I did. I bent down as I grumbled, reaching down to pick up a shirt without knowing all to well that I was doing so, sort of just going through the motion, but the shirt that I had thrown there before my fatal decision to kill Heather wasn't there. Blinking, I stood up straight and looked around my room, noticing that for the first time since we had moved in that it was clean. Spotless, even. Everything was arranged in prime order, my shirts ironed and hung in my open closet, the sheets and blankets on my bed flattened, taut on the frame, pillows fluffed for optimal comfort, papers on my desk arranged and stacked perfectly...

The sight made me want to cry, and I think a few tears did manage to break free. I walked around the room, a little afraid to, else I might make it dirty again, following the wall and the things pushed up against it, until I made it to my bed. It was then that I noticed something resting on the pillows. A card. Handmade and crafted with care.

Hands shaking, I reached out to pick up the card, and it took a while for me to get my fingers to get in the right position to pick the card up I was shaking so badly. But once I had it, I lifted the card to be a foot away from my face, studying the front of it before I opened it. It was decorated with printouts and drawings of my favorite things. A soccer ball because I played all through out high school, chocolate ice cream in a waffle cup from the ice cream parlor, truffles, salad, and even a cow with a red circle and mark through it. The cow made me smile a little, on the inside and out. Whoever had made this card knew I didn't like to eat meat, or more hated the thought of eating anything that didn't come from the ground, that absolutely had to be cooked else I might die.

There were more pictures on there, but most were covered up partially by the other ones so I couldn't quite make them out. I did, however, notice some words written on the front in a thin, black Sharpie, in the only spot not covered by pictures. It read " _Big Brother_ ", and I knew then that it was from my sisters. I kind of didn't want to open it, because I knew it would make me cry, whatever was written on the inside of the card, and I didn't want to cry. All of this was too much for me. I didn't want to cry, because then it would be more, and make things worse, because then I'd regret my decision to kill Heather even more, because I'd be leaving my family in... what? Just two more months... And I was never coming back...

But then again, another part of me wanted to open the card. I don't know why that part of me wanted to open the card. I think it was the curious part of me. But whatever it was, it won over, because I soon found myself opening the card, and reading what was inside. And I was right. It did make me cry.

 _Dear Big Brother James_ , the card from my sisters read at the top, and I smiled a little at that, knowing my nine year-old sister, Janis, was probably the one to write this, because her class had been working on letter writing skills last I knew of.

The card continued after a space, and I continued reading.

 _Mom keeps crying, and Dad says that you aren't going to be living with us anymore after a couple of months. Are you moving, big brother? Without us? Where are you going? Is it a place with lots of flowers? Judith hopes it has lots of flowers. Then she can pick them when we visit you when it's our turn to leave home. Is there going to be lots of trees? Jaden wants to climb them if there are._

Janis' handwriting seemed to get shaky after that, like she had finally understood what was going on, and there was another blank space before she had continued writing.

 _Don't leave us, big brother. We need you at home. Who's going to play with us, or take us to the movie? Who can we prank when we get bored? We can't prank Mom or Dad, because they wouldn't like that. And who's going to tuck us into bed the way you do? Why did you have to get sick, big brother? Why? We need you, big brother. W_

The handwriting changed again after that, this time more mature looking, and written in cursive, and I knew Jaden, the eldest of my three younger sisters, had taken over.

 _James,_ Jaden wrote. She was the only one of my sisters who addressed me by my given name, Janis the one to always call me "big brother", and Judith called me "Jamie". _We just wanted to let you know how much we love you, and how much you mean to us. We wish that things wouldn't end this way between us, but... it was fate, I guess. I, just like the rest of us, wish desperately that this hadn't happened to you, but we also don't want you to be in pain for too long, because we know you are most likely in pain right now. And Mom and Dad don't want us to see you the way you are, because they think it would only make things worse, and I think they're right. So we're staying with Aunt Susie until... afterwards. We cleaned your room for you before we left, James. It took a long time to do so, too, so you better be thankful._

Jaden's light threat made me smile a little through the tears that were threatening to spill again, glad she was able to keep her light tone while she wrote what would probably be the last words of hers I would physically see.

There was another break, and then more writing.

 _Anyways... Be sure to call us, okay? Every day. Got it? We need to hear our big brother speak to us. We know it won't help, but we need it. It's not just for us, but for you, too. We need to tell you how much we love you every day. Okay?_

 _We love our big brother, James, and we always will_.

My three sisters signed their names after the last line was written, and that was when I had officially started to cry. I set the note down on my nightstand, vision blurred as I viewed everything through my tears, and I laid down on my bed, burying my face into my pillow as I tried to release every bit of heartache I felt at the moment. Emphasis on tried, because if I were to succeed, I'd need the rest of my life and the next to get rid of every bit of heartache.


	18. Chapter 18

The whole card thing that my sisters had done for me had sparked some sort of light bulb in me, and I wanted to do something similar as well, for Calla. I wouldn't tell her that I was dying. She didn't need to know. But I was going to write to her everyday up until my death. I was going to write to her and tell her how much I thought about her, and include some small gifts that I could get my hands on without traveling too far from home if I suddenly collapsed. I was going to pack my things steadily after each letter, and only after, because I had plenty of time to pack, but not enough to write Calla.

Sitting down at my desk, I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and I stared at it for a while, starting to doodle a couple of flowers on the edges as I thought about what to write. They weren't just any flowers, though. They were calla lilies, the flower her father had named her after. Or, at least that was what I hoped they looked like, at least. I wasn't the best of artists, so I didn't know if they looked like calla lilies or not. But I tried, and after a while, I found myself writing.

 _Calla_ , I started the letter. No "Dear" or "My Love", or even what I used to call her, "My Flower". I didn't feel that was appropriate for this letter. Maybe for future letters, but not this one.

Sighing, I continued to write.

 _I thought it would be a good idea to write to you, since we haven't spoken in such a long time. I know what I did was wrong, the whole thing with Heather, and I just want to let you know that... I'm sorry. I'm so, so very sorry, Calla. However, for once, I'm not looking for forgiveness from you. Actually, for the longest of times, I had forgotten who you are, and Jason had to remind me. But I'll get to that in a second._

I crossed the last sentence out, grunting as I did, tempted to scribble it out, but knowing well that it wouldn't look good on the paper alongside my sloppy handwriting that had only gotten worse since I had been released from the hospital. But soon after crossing it out, I got too upset with the letter and swiped it off my desk and onto the floor, along with everything else that managed to get in my way, which wasn't much but a few trinkets that I had set up around me that reminded me of Calla.

Grabbing a new piece of paper, I slammed it down on top of my desk where the old one had been, and started again.

 _Calla,_

 _I know you hate me. I understand that. I hate myself, too. What I did was shitty beyond compare, and I know I can't fix it._

Already I was liking this one more than the last one. I don't know why, but something about putting myself up on the highest rung of an unstable ladder felt good, knowing that whatever fall was to come might be the end of me, or that there might be someone at the bottom to catch my fall. It was just satisfying, even though for this fall I knew I would die once I hit the bottom, and there was no one but Death to catch me, hopefully before the pain of going splat on the ground like a cockroach under ones shoe.

Lips pursed a little, I continued to write on the same line.

 _However, in this letter, and all the ones to come, I won't be looking for forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it. What I did was total crap, and it has hurt you more than it has hurt me. Just please, send me one, single letter promising me that you will read every single one of these, because the last one is going to be the most important._

I didn't realize it, then, but after I wrote that line, I knew I was planning on telling her that I was dying in my final letter. I figured I could ask my mom to send it to Calla after my death, so that she wouldn't know I was dead until it was too late and she couldn't be hurt by it anymore. I know it was a shitty thing to do, and probably the most stupid, but it was the only thing I could think of doing to prevent hurting her more than I already had.

Tears pricking my eyes, I continued.

 _You don't need to respond to all of them. I'm not asking for that. You can if you want, but I can't make the promise to you that I'll read them._

 _I just want you to know that Heather is gone. She and I had gotten into a car crash, and it had been her side that had gotten a direct impact._

I know that was a lie, but it was what everyone had told me, so that was what I had wrote. I couldn't tell Calla that Heather had been a succubus, because she knows a lot about monsters, and if she knew that, then she would know what was going on with me sooner than I wanted her to, and then she might worry about me. Not that I deserve her worry or anything... I actually don't want her to feel any sort of emotion towards me, at this point. I want us to be strangers, but writing to her will be the only thing that'll keep me sane during my short months of pain. She was the only one I could talk to that wouldn't talk back to me, and I needed that right now. I don't know why, but I just did. I couldn't explain it.

 _So... Heather's dead, now_ , I continued. _I'm fine. No injuries worth mentioning to you, because you shouldn't and wouldn't care about them. I might be wrong about the wouldn't, but I know you shouldn't, since they aren't important to you or anyone but my family and those that keep in touch. I'm not saying anything bad about you, Calla. I just... I just need to keep in touch with you, and you not with me, because I really need that right now. So, please, Cal. Don't send me any letters but the one I had requested, okay? I need to be the one doing all the talking, because you're the only one who won't in my life, and I need someone to listen, okay?_

I sighed and rubbed my forehead before continuing in another line.

 _Just... Please... I want to do the writing, and you the reading. Just for two months or so until everything in my life gets under control-_

Or more like vanishes because I'm dead... But I didn't add that part, because I didn't want her to know.

 _\- and, actually... You don't need to read every letter. At least just this one and the last one, okay? Unless I put important on the letter in big, red, block letters, you don't need to read them. And same goes for whatever letters you send me. I'm only going to read the first one, if you send it, and maybe the last one, if I get around to it. But I'm never going to read the letters between, okay? Not unless they say "important" on them or something. Okay? Okay._

 _Well... I guess that's it, for now. Until tomorrow._

 _James_

I signed my letter as best as I could before grabbing the envelope that had fallen to the floor when I had cleared my desk. A glint caught my eye, and the ring that I had given Calla that she had thrown at me when she saw me and Heather together caught my eye. Hesitating, I reached out and grabbed that as well before turning back to my letter and writing a bit more.

 _P.S.,_ I wrote.

 _Keep the ring. I gave it to you, so it's yours. Okay? And I'm going to be sending you other things, too. Small things, maybe a couple big things, but things nonetheless. Okay? You can throw them away or sell them if you want, but don't tell me if you do._

I decided that was good enough, and I folded the letter as neatly as possible before putting it in the envelope, along with Calla's ring. I closed the envelope and licked it shut before flipping it over and writing our addresses in their respective places and putting a postage stamp in the top right corner. I then got up, left my room, and went downstairs. No one was home at the moment, which I was glad for, because then they couldn't see me about to cry as I took my letter to Calla out to the mail. I put it in the box and took out what had been put in there yesterday, and hoped that it would get to Calla soon as I went back inside and started to officially pack every little thing I owned.


	19. Chapter 19

I had a hard time writing letters for the six days expected for Calla to reply to my first one. It wasn't that I physically couldn't, but more like emotionally and mentally couldn't write the letters. I mean, I did come up with something eventually, but sometimes it would take me all day to do so. On those days I couldn't get any packing done, and I was afraid I would never get everything put away if this kept up. I was already slow with packing, since everything had begun to start aching, every little muscle, bone, and tendon, but I knew I had to do it, for my mom and my sisters and Jason. So I pushed myself to put everything in boxes throughout the night, getting little to no sleep most nights. Not that sleep would help me heal at this point in time. Unless some child of Apollo extremely gifted in healing decided to come over to my house one day and get rid of my heart cancer, I was going to be dead in the next two months.

Yeah, I know. Yippee.

Anyways. About two weeks after sending my first letter, and after sending several more, one for each day, I got a letter from Calla. I stared at it for a good ten to fifteen minutes before setting it aside, unopened, and starting on my letter to her for the day.

 _Calla,_

 _Thank you for getting back to me,_ I wrote. _It means a lot to me. I haven't read it yet as I write this one, but I will after I send it to you. I promise I will. It's just, I want to put it off till after I'm done writing this, because I'm afraid of what might be in it. I know I probably shouldn't be, but I am. If you had said anything mean in it to me... Gods. I don't think I could handle that. Not right now. There's just too much going on in my life right now. But I promise I'll read it later. I promise._

I sighed heavily and stared at the letter I just wrote. I did that a lot, these days. That's why it always takes me so long to write. I always stared at what I first wrote, and most often I didn't like it, so I had to restart it. This was one of those cases, so I picked the paper up and crumbled it. I decided then to skip out on today's letter and just go for a walk. I hadn't been on any sort of walk since coming home, and I thought I might as well go on one before it was too late.

I got dressed and ready to leave my room and house for the first time other than to just deliver mail to the mail box, struggling a bit getting my shirt on. Once I had everything on, I left my room and went down stairs, getting my shoes on before heading to the door. I stopped real quick, thinking I should probably take my pain medication, and I grabbed them before leaving. I walked down the street, opening my pill bottle and dumping a couple of pills into my hand, popping them into my mouth as I continued to walk. I thought as I walked, wondering where I should walk to, and also thinking about other things as I did.

For once I didn't think about Calla. Instead, I thought about Heather, and whatever unborn demon I had killed that was my child. Maybe they wouldn't have been as much of a demon as Heather. I remembered hearing about a time when some half monster people had gone to camp, taken over after beating up Zavid, and a couple of them actually turned against their leader and had helped Zavid take back the camp. It made me feel a little guilty, really. What if my child wasn't a demon like their mother? I should have waited until after they had been born to kill their mother. Put them up for adoption or something. My mom and Jason had been thinking about getting me another sibling for a while before this whole incident. Maybe I could have told them that I had found the baby abandoned on the street or something. Instead, I not only killed my demon girlfriend, but also my potentially not-demon child. Gods, I felt terrible about that. Made me a bit depressed, y'know? I'm going to die before I'm twenty-one, when I'm legally allowed to drink, and I was going to be a dad. I _would have_ been a dad and probably a husband if I hadn't killed both my girlfriend and our unborn child. I wouldn't have been a terribly happy husband, true, especially since I knew what she was, but I was potentially going to be one nonetheless. Would have lived till my child was twenty something, and then died. But now I was going to die sooner, and not get to experience any of that.

Damn. That's a bit depressing...

Thinking about Heather and being a father, even at such a young age, made me think of my sisters. I was kind of like a father to them when Jason wasn't home, at work getting more money, though our family didn't really need it. But he liked his job, so I didn't blame him for not wanting to miss a day or two, or even just quit. But now my sisters weren't going to have a big brother to pick them up from school, play with them, have a prank war with... They aren't going to have a big brother in a month, and they know it, too.

Gods, my life took a depressing turn of events.

After a while of thinking, I found myself at Calla's house. I bit my lip, looking around and spotting her in her garden on the side of the house, tending to the flowers that she was growing. I noticed that the tomato plant that she had grown for me because I love tomato's was gone, and it made me even sadder than I already was. It seemed like she had gotten rid of everything that reminded her of me.

As that realization crossed my mind, I noticed something new in her garden. Tulips. All of them a variety of colors. I smiled slightly when I saw them. I had sent the seeds for them in my letter last Saturday, hoping that she wouldn't see them as something to remind her of me, and instead as more like an addition to her garden. And it seemed that that was what she had thought, so she had planted them.

As I thought about the tulips, Calla noticed me looking at her, and she looked up. I didn't realize it until she said my name, and I jumped, startled, which sent a jolt of pain through my heart as well. I lifted my hand to my chest and pressed on it till the pain became a dull throb. Not that the pushing helped with that or anything. It was more like a psychological thing, like if you blow on a burn it'll make it feel better, even though the skin is still cooking beneath it. It doesn't really help, but the brain thinks it does, so you do it anyways.

Anyways... Once my heart stopped hurting as much as it possibly could, I looked back up at Calla and gave her a small, tentative smile. She scowled back at me, and my smile fell. I looked down at my shoes, which I then noticed were on the wrong feet at that moment, and I sat on the ground to fix them, Calla studying me all the while.

"What's with the letters, James?" She asked icily after a while.

"I'm dying," I found myself saying before I could stop myself. I guess internally I didn't want to lie to Calla anymore, but that was one truth I wanted to keep secret.

Her scowl deepened. "Like I should believe that, after all the lies you've told me."

I sighed. "Yeah... Don't believe it... That's actually what I was hoping for, to be honest..."

Calla blinked at that, like she hadn't expected me to say that. She probably expected me to come up with another lie or something, or a truth that she thought was a lie. But so far today, all I've told her were truths, but she didn't believe them. I was, for once, happy that she didn't believe me.

"... Are you really dying, James?"

"No," I answered immediately, spitting out the answer. "Like I'd _lie_ about _dying_. What kind of an asshole do you think I fucking am to lie about _dying?"_

Calla adverted her gaze when she heard the venom in my voice. "I'm sorry..."

I snorted. "Don't be, Cal. Just fucking don't be. That's why I didn't tell you in my letters that I'm dying. I just need you to be there to listen to me, and to never talk to me. Everyone else is too busy crying and telling me how much they love me to fucking listen to me, and you're the _only one_ who won't do those two fucking things in my life, and that's why I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I came over here. I'm leaving now." I stood up, my shoes on the right feet now, and pulled out my pain killers as I did, popping a couple more pills into my mouth before putting it away again. Before turning around, prepared to leave but Calla said my name before I could.

"...What made you think that I wouldn't cry after knowing, James?"

"That's why I didn't _tell you_ , Calla. Because I didn't want you to cry." I sighed and lifted a hand, rubbing my forehead as a pounding headache started to develop. "Just... I'm done writing letters, now. Just... I'm done. You know, so now there's no one for me to talk to. Don't be expecting anymore letters, got it?"

"James..."

" _What_?"

I turned around and looked at Calla, seeing her biting her lip, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"What happened to you?"

"It doesn't fucking matter. I'll be gone in a month, anyways. There's nothing you can do to help. Now just shut up and leave me alone."

I left after that, not at all feeling bad that Calla was crying behind me, but feeling more empty than I ever had before.


	20. Chapter 20

It wasn't until I had gotten halfway home did I feel bad about making Calla cry. I tried my hardest not to be upset over it. I mean, it's not like it mattered to me, anymore. I wasn't her boyfriend. I gave up that title a year ago when she had caught Heather and I together. We weren't even friends anymore. There was no reason why I should feel bad, and there was no reason for her to cry over me dying. We were strangers now, and that was that.

...Wasn't it?

For some reason, deep inside of me, I couldn't let go of the notion that maybe Calla actually cared for me, even if just a little bit. But it didn't make sense. Why should she care? I haven't done anything nice for her in the past year. We stopped talking. We stopped everything. She shouldn't care. Hell. _I_ don't care.

... Don't I?

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear it of my thoughts of Calla, I continued walking back home. I felt miserable inside, like my best friend just died or something, even though I didn't have a best friend. All I had were friends that haven't talked to me since Heather had died, and that just made me feel even worse than I already did when I realized that. Maybe I could write to one of them, get some sense of friendliness before I died my painful death that was to end my short life. Maybe I'd allow them to write back to me, though I doubt they would. My friends weren't the letter writing type.

Hell. I don't even know if they were my friends anymore. They've probably already forgotten about me...

My lip trembled a little at the thought of being alone through all of this, and I thought, not for the first time, if it would just be better to take matters into my own hands and cut my own yarn while I still could. Thread the needle one last time so the people who actually cared wouldn't feel such dread as we came closer and closer to my expected date of death. Instead, it would just be a quick thing. I'm suddenly dead, someone finds me dead, crying for a week, funeral after crying, more crying during the funeral, some grief after the funeral, and then it's done. Nobody would be crying everyday during the whole month I had left as we awaited my deadline, because I wouldn't be alive for that month.

A car passing by shook me out of my thoughts, and I looked up at it, it's headlights glancing off the lit silver streetlamps before washing me in it's pool of unnatural yellow light. I watched it pass, going the whole forty miles an hour the street speed limit was, maybe a bit over, before I glanced down where it had come from. I spotted a semi heading my way down the street, and I stopped walking, thinking. As I thought, I shuffled closer to the edge of the sidewalk, until I was balanced on the edge of the curb. I thought about doing it, about jumping in front of the semi. I thought about it all the while as it came closer and closer to me.

A split second decision, and the semi was breezing past me, tugging at my clothes with the wind it created. I dared to reach out a hand and let it graze the side of the semi's haul and cargo as it rushed past, feeling the cold metal beneath my already cold fingertips until I was left touching nothing but air with my outstretched hand.

Sighing, I shoved my hands into my pockets and crossed the street illegally. I didn't bother checking for anything coming my way, a great part of me still hoping that something would come and hit me, hopefully kill me, too. Paint the sidewalk red with my natural paint. The more I thought about death that way, in the artistic sense, the more I wanted it. It was weird, really. You think about something artistically, like the trees or the wind, and you see a whole other beauty in it. Like Vincent William van Gogh's Starry Night painting. He took one look at the starry night, saw the wind, saw a beauty in it, and he wanted it. He wanted to paint it, so he did. And he kept doing so with every painting he created.

Up until he committed suicide, of course, but my point still stands. Maybe I'm just another Gogh, depressed and alone in this world, and who wants nothing more than to paint what they see in their lonely visions. And what I saw was me, dead, on the sidewalk, painting the city with my life, literally.

Sighing heavily, I pulled a hand out of my pocket and pressed my cold fingertips to my right temple, trying to push away the thoughts about death. I just had to hold out a little bit longer. My sisters needed me. My mom needed me. In a month, I can die, but not now. My family needs me to be strong for them, hold out till the very end, and then keep pushing forward until my legs give out and I fall, unable to get up to run just a few more meters past the finish line. Everyone who loved me needed me to do that. It wasn't for Calla anymore. Nothing was for Calla, anymore. It was all for my family, and no one else.

Heather's gone. I killed her, but everyone thought she had died in a car crash that the Mist had planted into their minds. She couldn't control me anymore. She left me with half of my total life lying in waste ahead of me, and I was going to try my hardest to push through all the chaos and turmoil and make the most out of it. No one was going to stop me but Death, and he's only going to be allowed to stop me when I say so, not him. When _I_ say he can stop me, because I'm going to live longer than a month from now, goddamn it. You hear that, Thanatos? You can't take me until _years_ from now. Got that? _Years_. I'm going to live _past_ drinking age, got that?

Trying to keep those sorts of thoughts in my mind, even though I didn't fully believe them, I continued home, trying my hardest to not let my acceptance of my early death cascade on me and cause me to act it out a month too soon. I was going to keep this mindset, play some video games, eat more than I've eaten the past weeks, and start taking control of my life for once. I mean, it's never too late to take control, am I right?


	21. Chapter 21

"James? James!"

My mother came barreling towards me at full speed, and I braced myself, prepared for the same flying tackle hug that Heather used to do to me, even though I knew better with my Mom. She slowed down, stopping just mere inches away from me, before her arms flew out and she pulled me into a bone crushing hug. Once I was in my mother's arms, I found myself beginning to cry, and my Mom quickly brought me inside with her. She closed the door behind us and brought me over to the couch, where we both sat, here holding me close as I held onto her tightly.

"James, sweetie," my mother murmured in her soft, soothing tone. "What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong, honey."

"N-nothing," I choked out through my tears. I lied. Everything was wrong. Each day I live, I'm getting closer and closer to my expected death. My Mom, my sisters, and Jason cried over the fact that I'm dying everyday. Calla knows that I'm dying, now. I _want_ to die, now. I didn't want to live with it any longer. I was depressed. I wanted to hurt myself so that I'd stop hurting. I wanted to do that so badly, but why couldn't I?

"James..." My mother said my name lowly, but still with the same soft tone she had taken when addressing me over the past couple of weeks.

I sniffled and pulled my face out of my Mom's thick, creamy blonde hair, wiping at my eyes. "N-nothing," I repeated.

I didn't want to tell her that I wanted to die. She didn't need to know that. It would just hurt her more than she was already hurting, and it wasn't my place to hurt my Mom. It was my place to hurt those who hurt her, because she deserves every bit of happiness she can get in her life. Which, I guess, meant that... I had to hurt myself, because, for once, it was _me_ hurting my mother. But if I hurt myself, then I'd hurt her more, and it would just cause this whole paradoxical loop of me hurting myself because I was hurting my Mom, and in turn hurting her more because I was hurting myself. So I couldn't hurt myself intentionally. Unintentionally... That wasn't in my control. My heart cancer can hurt my Mom, because that's me hurting her unintentionally. But I can't hurt myself intentionally.

"James, please tell me wha-"

"Nothing's wrong, goddamn it!" I suddenly exploded with anger, much like I had with Calla. I found my tears suddenly gone, and all dark thoughts replaced with a red, burning fuel. I stood, almost shoving my Mom aside as I did. "When I say nothing's wrong, that means stop fucking hounding me, damn it," I growled. "When I say nothing's wrong, that means I want to be left alone. Just fucking leave me alone, Mom. You're not the only one grieving. I'm grieving too. Did you know that, Mother? I'm grieving, too. I've lost _everything_ that matters to me outside of this family. _Everything_. So just give me some goddamn space!"

It seemed that Calla wasn't the only one that I was out to make cry that day, because with each sentence I spat at my Mom in my fury, she came closer and closer to spilling tears of her own. But, just like with Calla, I didn't care. I didn't care about anything once again. I lifted a shaky hand to point accusingly at my Mom, though I didn't know why.

"I didn't ask for this," I said, voice just as shaky as my hand. "Heather did this to me. That fucking succubus is the reason I'm dying. Oh, but you don't know that, because you're just a _stupid_ _mortal_ who is easily _blinded_ by the mist. That car crash you keep talking about? Yeah. That _never_ happened. _I_ was the one to kill her, Mom. _I_ killed Heather, because I didn't want to spend the rest of my life as a _sex slave_ to a fucking _monster_. And you want to know something else, Mom? You were already going to outlive me, because if I hadn't killed Heather, I'd be dead in another twenty years. Yeah. That's right. I'd only live to _forty_. _Forty_ , Mom. _Forty_. But, me being the idiot that I am, I didn't know that Heather meant she'd take a half of my _whole_ life when I killed her. She didn't clarify! I killed my unborn child because of that demon, Mom."

I talked more and more, and with each sentence I spoke, my rage became lesser, and my grief and sudden depression greater. I knew my mom wouldn't remember any of what I was yelling at her, because the Mist would make her forget, but I didn't care. I wanted to yell at her like I had yelled at Calla. Or... Like how I had _wanted_ to yell at Calla. With her I had been more sarcastic, using a low, hateful voice when I addressed her. This time, however, with my mom, I was going nuclear before I simmered down, and it felt _great_.

When I was done yelling at my mom, her eyes went foggy, the Mist working its magic, and I let out a frustrated noise when I saw it. I swiveled on my heel, not wanting to deal with my mom any longer, even after the Mist cleared her memory of any mention of monsters and it's crappy likes. I stormed up to my room and practically sent my door flying off its hinges I opened it with such force, watching it bounce off the wall, creating a dent where the handle had hit it. I heard my mom begin to cry, but I didn't care. Not one bit.

Turning around, I grabbed hold of the door and slammed it shut before going on an ever so destructive rampage around my room.


	22. Chapter 22

"James, I need to talk to you. In person. I have things I need to tell you, an-"

" _Message deleted_. _You have..._ _thirty one_ _unread messages remaining._ "

I hit the button to play the next voicemail.

" _Message received on May twenty-fourth, two thousand nineteen._ "

"James, I know you think I'm mad, but I'm really not. I nee-"

" _Message deleted_. _You have..._ _thirty_ _unread messages remaining._ "

It went like that for the next five minutes, me cycling through and deleting every unanswered call, every voicemail that Calla had left over the course of the past six days. I didn't really want to listen to them, which is why I kept deleting them after the first few words. There were a couple that I listened to during the full duration, but only because there were people talking in the background of them, and I wanted to play the game " _Guess Where Calla Was When She Sent Me This Call_ ". That was the only reason why I listened to them. And I got a lot of information out of it, too. The first one with background noise, she had been calling me while her dad was watching the news on the television. The second one she called me while she was at school, in the cafeteria. The third one was a little tricky, since it sounded like a cafeteria, but not quite. Instead, I managed to deduce that she was at the park, because if I paid enough attention, I could hear the birds there in the background. I was quite entertained playing that game, not paying any attention to whatever people were saying to me for once. I enjoyed it a lot.

"Jimmy..."

My thumb froze over the delete button when I heard Calla call me "Jimmy". I was confused as to why she had said that. She had called me "James" in all her other messages. Why would she change it now?

Curiosity sparking, I continued to listen to the message.

Calla sniffed, and I could only imagine that she was wiping tears off her face at the time that this message was recording. Everything was silent in the background, which made me even more curious than before.

"Jimmy, I... I know you told me to leave you alone, but I just... I just can't. Y-you've probably already figured that out by now with all these voice messages that I'm leaving, b-but... Jimmy... I-I'm sorry. I-"

" _Message deleted_. _You have... no unread messages._ "

I hit the end call button, and my voice mail turned off. I dropped my phone onto the space on my bed next to my head, and stared up at my popcorned bedroom ceiling. I laid there for a little while before my alarm went off, telling me to take my medication for my pain. I rolled over a little and hit dismiss on the alarm, not getting up to do so, leaving me to now stare at my closet door, the wall around the frame barren. Nine days ago I had destroyed almost every single one of my personal belongings, including my clothes and my blankets, before going to the large fire pit we had in the back and setting it all ablaze. My mom had tried to stop me, but I had shoved her back and away before dumping two gallons of gasoline on the pile and setting it all on fire with my lighter. I remembered watching it burn, perplexed, and then trying to join my belongings in their blazing death. My mom had screamed at me and pulled me back, snapping me out of whatever trance I had been in, before sending me upstairs to my room and trying to put out the fire to salvage whatever she could from it, but to no avail.

A knock sounded on my door, jolting me out of my thoughts. I didn't make any thought or sound to answer the person behind the door, knowing it was probably my mom, who knew I was in here, as I had been for the past nine days, making no attempt to socialize with my family or anyone in general as my old pocket knife that I had found while destroying everything became close friends, sharpening the broken pencils strewn about and carving things out of the wood of my broken desk. My food was now hand delivered to my room, and it probably would have been hand fed to me if I didn't scream at my mom every time she tried to do so. My life had become bleak and miserable after seeing Calla again, and I actually quite enjoyed it. Was that possible, enjoying your life when you feel it's bleak and miserable?

After a while, my mom spoke, hesitance clear in her voice. "James, there's, um... someone here who wants to see you again," she told me through the door.

I didn't respond, and so my mom continued.

"I'm, um... Going to let them in, now, okay?"

"...No." I finally said. I didn't want anyone in my room. It was the last thing that belonged to me that I cared about, and nobody was going to come in unless _I_ said so.

My mom sighed. "James, at this point, it's not an option. I'm opening this door, and they're coming in, whether you're fully clothed or not."

My mom knew I had a problem with being seen even partially nude in front of people, so she tried to pry at that in an attempt to get me up and out of my bed and probably changed into some clothes that I hadn't been wearing for the past nine days, but it didn't work. I just remained there, laying in bed, staring at my closet door, not bothering to even sit up.

A couple seconds later when no sounds came from my room, my mom opened the door, and whoever was here to see me came in, clearly more hesitant than they let on. The door closed again, and there was a silence in the room that was probably tense to the other person, but I was too miserable to feel any tension. The person in my room walked hesitantly over towards my bed, making sure they stayed out of my line of sight until they were directly in front of me, close enough so that all I could see were their knee caps in my direct line of sight. They stood there for a long while, until, finally, I got annoyed.

" _Excuse_ me," I growled, "but I was staring at my closet door. It's all I do these days, and I would appreciate it if you fucking moved so I can continue on with my merry day filled with closet and ceiling gazing."

"I'm not moving. Not until you look at me, Jimmy."

I blinked at her voice, and naturally while my brain did a double take, I rolled over until I could see Calla without turning my head. She was looking down at me as I rolled to be on my back again, biting her lip, a clear hesitance in her expression and stance, before I saw her mentally say "screw it" and quickly bend down, faster than I could process at that moment. Her lips were pressed on mine suddenly, and my eyes widened as hers squeezed shut. I lifted my hands, about to push Calla away from me and yell at her until she left like I did with everyone else who entered my room, but some small, microscopic part of me told me to not do that, and my body listened to it, making my wide eyes slowly close and my lips move to kiss Calla back. My hands moved, one to Calla's waist, and the other to her hip to guide her onto me so she didn't have to stand while we kissed, all the while thinking that this couldn't be happening. It was like my life had just become some stupid romantic sob story film like If I Stay or The Fault In Our Stars, or Remember Me. Gods, but it was amazing, having Calla kiss me again. To just have Calla again was amazing enough. She didn't even have to kiss me to make it amazing. Just her being there to see me was enough to make me happy again.

A minute or so later, and Calla was forced to pull away from the kiss, leaving me just as speechless as when I had heard her voice. We were both out of breath, and my heart ached, but, for once, it was a pleasant ache, an ache I'd be more than willing to feel again if it meant Calla was there when I felt it.

"Jimmy, I still l-love you," Calla said, and I realized then that she was crying. My cheeks were wet from where her wet ones had touched them, but I couldn't will my body to do anything about them.

"I'm dying," was all my stupid brain and mouth could get out. No "I still love you, too, Cal", or even "it's okay, my flower". Nope. Just stupid ol' James, flying back into his damaged body saying something as stupid as "I'm dying" while his probably-going-to-be-his-girlfriend-again ex is practically laying on top of him, crying, saying that she still loves him. Gods. How I want to slap my stupid self, now.

Calla let out a sob and nodded her head, bringing up a hand to cup her mouth, and I started to beat myself up over the stupidity of my words more than I already was.

"Sh, sh," I murmured, pulling Calla closer to me and bringing up the hand that was on her hips up to the back of her head, using my other hand to rub her back soothingly as I let her cry into my probably rank shirt. But she didn't seem to care if I smelled or not. She just continued to cry into me as I worked on rolling us over until we were on our sides, still holding her close to my body. "It's okay, my fl-"

"I-it's not okay, James!" Calla practically yelled it at me, startling me, and making my heart feel that not-so-pleasant ache. I tried my best to not let the pain of it show on my face. Calla took a few quick breaths before speaking again. "I-I need you, Jimmy. Y-you can't die. Y-you can't. Wh-why m-must you b-be so stupid, Jimmy?"

I bit my lip and adverted my gaze from Calla. "I'm sorry... I had to... I just..." I trailed off slowly.

"'You just' wh-what, James?"

I hesitated, but only for a couple of seconds, before the story of how I came to be dying at the age of twenty with stage five heart cancer began to spill out. Calla listened to my every word, and for once I felt like she actually believed me on what I was saying. She listened to every word I said, not interrupting me the whole while, and when I was finished telling my story, she didn't yell at me like I expected her to do. Instead, she bit her lip before giving me a small kiss.

"I'm going to move in, Jimmy." She seemed to have decided that just that instant, but I didn't call her on it. "I-I'm going to ask your mom i-if it would be okay for me to m-move in, a-and tell my dad that i-it would only be temporary, a-and take care of a-and stay with you for whatever time we have l-left, okay?"

"Cal, you can't..."

"Why can't I, James?"

I opened my mouth, but couldn't come up with a good enough reason as to why she couldn't. At least not one that she would listen to. I had plenty that she wouldn't. Like, oh, I don't know... I don't want her to watch as I slowly die on the inside and slowly become physically incapacitated. I didn't want to hurt her if she witnessed my death that was in the near future. But every reason revolved around my feelings, so I didn't say anything. Instead, I changed the subject.

"So, um... Are we... y'know..." I didn't know why I had to make it sound awkward or anything like some sort of middle schooler hooking up with his first girlfriend ever, but I did. And it was stupid. Again.

Calla smiled slightly at my strange stupidity, and she wiped at her eyes, nodding. "Y-yeah. I-I mean... I-if you want us to b-be..."

Oh good. So it wasn't just me making myself sound like a middle schooler hooking up with his first ever girlfriend.

Smiling slightly, I nodded. "I'd like that..."

"Then... Yes, Jimmy. W-we are back together."

I let out a small sigh at that, and held Calla closer to me, if it was even possible at that point. "Thank you, Cal..." I murmured.

"You're welcome, Jimmy," she responded in equal volume.

I smiled a bit more at the nickname that she had given me, the nickname that only Calla could use. The one only my flower could use, my beautiful, amazing flower that I was going to cherish and love forever, tending to its every needs and making sure nothing came to harm it.

Smiling even more at the thought of having Calla by my side once more, I closed my eyes, content for the first time in what seemed like forever.

 **...**

 **Sorry for the lateness. O.O I originally started writing this Friday, and it just trailed into Saturday morning, so I'm counting this as a Friday update and not a Saturday update... And it's over two thousand words, so I'm counting it as the missing Thursday update as well. XP**


	23. Chapter 23

"James? James, it's time to wake up."

I hadn't realized that I had fallen asleep until I heard Calla say my name. I groaned and blinked open my eyes, trying to adjust them to the dim light in my room. I expected to see Calla in front of me when I opened my eyes, but she wasn't there. Instead, a wall was, and when I brought up a hand to rub at my eyes, I noticed that I was sprawled out on my bed, and Calla wasn't there with me.

I dropped my hand next to my head after rubbing my eyes and stared at the wall. "...Was I snoring?" I asked before a yawn escaped me.

"Yeah, you were."

"How badly...?"

"Pretty bad. I thought there was a lawn mower in the room somewhere."

I turned my head so I faced the direction Calla's voice was coming from, eyes squinted as I studied her face. She had a small, teasing smile dancing at the corners of her mouth, and I could see she was trying hard not to let it show. I thought it was pretty cute the way she tried to disguise it, the way she made her lips go back down every time they twitched up, and the way that her hand twitched by her side as well, a clear sign that she was trying to not cover her mouth with it.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, ha ha. Very funny, Cal. But, really. How bad was I snoring?"

"Lawn mower bad."

"Really?"

"Really really."

I still didn't want to believe her, because if I had been snoring that badly, surely I would have noticed, wouldn't I? But I knew Calla always spoke the truth, unlike me who would lie if it hurt someone, so I really had no choice but to believe her.

"Ugh, fine," I groaned. "I believe you."

Calla grinned. "Good. Now, I made you some breakfast a little while ago, and-"

"How long ago?" I interrupted, not really meaning to. I blinked when I realized I had, and turned a little red. "S-sorry, Cal... I didn't mean to interrupt..."

She smiled softly at me, and I thought not for the first time just how lucky I was to have her in my life. The daughter of Anthiea, the Greek goddess of flowers, made my life so much more worthwhile. She made me smile and grin like the fool I was more often than I did without her around. She made me laugh more often, too, at both myself and her. She was kind and generous, and way more forgiving than I could ever be. Gods, she was so amazing, and beautiful, too. But her beauty wasn't what made me love her. It was everything that she was and everything that she meant to me that made me love her, and I was never going to let that go again.

I found myself grinning foolishly back at Calla when she smiled at me, and she giggled in response to it before answering my question.

"About five minutes ago."

I blinked at that. "Five minutes?" I repeated. "Have you been trying to wake me up the entire time?"

Calla did an "eh" gesture with her head, bouncing it from side to side while a corner of her mouth tugged down. "Yeah, I guess. But not all that hard. I thought you might have needed the sleep."

"How long was I asleep?"

Calla looked around the room for a clock, but I knew she wouldn't find one, since I had destroyed both of the ones that had been in my room. She seemed to have realized that after awhile, and pretended to have actually been thinking, turning a little red, making me smile slightly as I thought again just how cute she was. "Uh... About... Eleven hours, give or take..."

"Give or take how many?"

"An hour... or two..."

"So... Between nine and thirteen hours?"

Calla nodded, pursing her lips. "Mmhm!"

"Wow, Cal. So specific. Thanks." I joked, sarcasm light in my tone, and she grinned.

"You're welcome! Anyways, I got you your breakfast ready, and I left it downstairs, because your mom told me you haven't left your room at _all_ for, like, a week or something, so I thought maybe leaving it down there would encourage you to get up, dressed, and ready for the day. I ma-"

"Cal," I said, but she didn't seem to notice.

"-de you waffles with whip cream and raspberries on it, lightly drizzled with buttermilk syrup, with two cups of fruit on the side. I _was_ going to try and make something tofu-y, but I don't know how to make tofu, so I didn't want to try in case I messed it up and wasted your guys' food, and I didn't want to do that, because I don't know how expensive tofu is or can get. I mean, I know that your family has a lot of money, but I still don't want to waste it, you know? I'd feel bad if I wasted any of your food."

"Calla." I said her name a bit louder this time, but still she didn't notice.

"You know what I mean, right?" She continued. "How when you go to someone else's house and you want to make something to eat, but you don't know what to make that will fill you up and use the least amount of their food because you don't want to waste any of it? You know that feeling, right? That's how I was feeling while I made you breakfa-"

" _Calla_."

She finally stopped talking and looked at me, blinking. "...Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

If I hadn't been staring at her face the entire while, I wouldn't have missed her quickly biting the inside of her lip. It wouldn't have been very noticeable if I hadn't been looking for signs that she wasn't okay in her expressions since I'd woken up, but seeing it just made me even more concerned than I already was.

"Of course I'm okay!" She quickly said soon after biting her lip. "Why wouldn't I be okay? I-I'm going to go downstairs and start eating. Join me when your ready!"

The other demigod left my room before I had a chance to speak again, and I stared after her, dumbfounded, before sighing. I lifted my hands and rubbed at my face, trying to clear my head so I could think. Calla wasn't okay. There was something troubling her greatly. I could see it under her smiles and laughs. She had looked sad, in grief. Most likely because of me. Again. Gods. I should have pushed her away yesterday like I had wanted to. It would have been easier for her. I should have told her I didn't want her to watch me whither away for the next month. I should have made it easier for her.

All these "should have"'s and "would have"'s made me think yet again about Heather, and the same "should have"'s and "would have"'s that accompanied her name every time it appeared in my head. I thought about them for a little while before pushing every thought that had the word "have" in it away, wanting to think in the now and what was and not the past and what could be. Once I managed to get them all out, or at least the majority of them, I swung my legs out of my bed and got ready for the day for the first time in almost two weeks.

...

 **Meh... It's an update...**


	24. Chapter 24

As the days passed, it got harder and harder for me to keep going, both physically and mentally. I could feel myself dying now more than ever, each beat my heart made an effort to survive that got weaker and weaker each day. I couldn't even get out of bed anymore I was so weak. I tried every day, but eventually... I gave up, and just laid there all day, doing nothing but talk to Calla and try to eat even the smallest of bites during a meal before I couldn't eat anymore, or didn't feel up to eating more. Most often I went without food, some internal part of me already accepting my fate as I tried to fight for as long as possible.

It wasn't just hard for me, though. Calla suffered a lot as well. I could see her trying not to cry every day, making me want to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. But I knew I couldn't, because everything wasn't going to be okay. I was dying. I only had a couple more days to live, and she knew that. We all knew that. Every single one of us in my house knew that I had just a couple more days in the overworld before I died and Death took me to the Underworld, and it hurt Calla so much. I wished on those days that I had insisted she not stay in my house until my death more than ever. I didn't want her to hurt, then, and I sure as hell didn't want her to hurt now, either. Gods. Why couldn't she just listen to me that first and only time I had told her "no"?

I think, though, my mom took all of this in a way worse than either of ours. I could hear her muttering to herself on some days before she left for work, saying that it was her fault I was dying. That it was her fault that I was expected to be dead in less than seventy two hours. She said that she should have looked into both mine and my dads' family's medical histories to see if I would have been at risk for any form of cancer so that she could have tried to prevent whatever had led up to my cancer now. I couldn't help but to scoff every time I heard her say that, because I knew for a fact my dad wouldn't have a medical record, since he was a god and all, and I also knew for a fact that my family had little to no history of cancers of any form. I had done my research as well, in all my spare time lying on my bed.

I didn't know how my sisters were handling it. I think that was one thing I had both wanted to know and yet not wanted to know. I haven't talked to them in a long while. I haven't talked to anyone in a long while, as a matter of fact. I've been having such a hard time breathing that I can't get very many words out when I try, even with an inhaler or the oxygen mask my mom had gotten from the hospital in an attempt to help me. Nothing helped, and it sucked.

...

You know... The funny thing about death is... you don't really know when it's going to happen. Not even the doctors know. I died two days earlier than they had said I would die. It wasn't anything peaceful, either. It was just pain. Pure pain. A dull pain, yeah, but only because I was taking several different kinds of pain killers at once. I mean, at least I was asleep for it, but still. And I didn't even realize I was dead when I had died, either. At least not until I noticed I wasn't in pain anymore and saw the unnaturally attractive guy standing at the foot of my bed, and I only noticed him because he literally reeked of death. Not like the smell of death sort of reek, but, like, the feeling of death. Like, Death just feels so strongly like death that you just have to look at him eventually and notice that he's standing there waiting to take you to the Underworld for your judgment. I don't know if that makes any sense to you. It's just something you'd have to experience for yourself. Which you will... eventually. Hopefully not as I early as I had.

Death asked me if I wanted to stay and watch my family grieve over me before he showed me the way to the long line of Judgement. I didn't know what to say to that, in all honesty. A part of me felt that I had to stay to watch how they managed, to see what they did, and hear what they said at my funeral, but I knew if I did that, I'd only hurt more while I waited for them to join me in the Underworld.

Turning to Thanatos, I shook my head. "I'd prefer to just go," I told him, and he pursed his lips before responding.

"Are you sure, James Sporters Lime?" He had asked me. "Once we leave, there is no coming back, unless you qualify for rebirth. And if you choose to accept rebirth, you will not remember any of this life."

I glanced behind me to where Calla was at, still sleeping in my arms, her chest rising and falling while mine remained still, lifeless. I bit my lip before nodding. "I'm sure," I whispered. I was ready to leave. I didn't want to see Calla hurt any longer than I had to. I didn't want to see any of my family hurt longer than I had to.

Thanatos nodded and held out a hand. I looked at it before reaching out my own and accepting his hand, not even hesitating. I was ready to go. I had thought all those days leading up to this one that I wouldn't be ready to go when it was my time, but I was. I was more than ready. I _wanted_ to go now, even though I didn't know what awaited me on the other side of Judgement. But I was prepared to know, now.

Glancing up, I locked eyes with Death, and we were suddenly no longer in my room, but now in the Underworld, where I would remain for all of eternity.

 **...**

 **Don't go anywhere quite yet, people! There's one more chapter waiting to be read. :3**


	25. Epilogue

"Mister James?"

The blonde man looked over at the kid who had said his name in the questioning tone, and smiled when he saw her hand was raised. "Yes, Olivia? What is it?"

"Why can you remember all that even though you're over there?"

"In the Fields of Asphodel?" James asked for clarification, even thouh he knew what she meant.

The young girl nodded. "Yeah. Isn't that the place where everyone who goes there forgets everything?"

The six or seven other kids in front of James in Elysium nodded, and began to speak up as well. The man tried to keep track of their voices and which questions belonged to who, but after a while, he couldn't. He pursed his lips and attempted to fix his messy blonde hair, but only succeeded in making it even messier than it originally was as he waited for the kids to quiet down. Eventually a couple of the older kids caught on, and they began to shush the other kids so that James may attempt to answer their questions, and once he was sure they weren't going to try to talk over him anymore, he answered Olivia's question, glancing behind the kids to a few of the adults behind them.

"Well," he started, "to answer the question about me being able to remember my past life even though I'm in the Fields of Asphodel..." He made eye contact with a set of bright blue eyes, eyes that belonged to a woman with silky, dark black hair that reached her waist in soft curls, part of it braided at the top in a halo braid. "The reason is because it's my punishment. Forever able to see what I want, but never able to get it."

The woman's eyes softened, and James watched as she bit her lip and looked away. He sighed and turned his attention back to the kids, just in time to hear another question, this one asked by a dirty blonde boy with blue eyes and pale skin.

"Then why aren't you in the Fields of Punishment if you have one?" He asked.

James felt the corners of his lips twitch up slightly, and he glanced back at the woman before looking at the blonde boy again. "Because what I want, it needs to be the real thing, not some illusion punishment gives."

"What do you want?" The same boy asked.

"Someone that I was foolish to let go of for my own selfish reasons."

"Who is it?"

"Jamie, I think that's quite enough."

James' lips quirked up again as he looked back at the woman again. "'Jamie'?" He repeated.

"I was just asking a question, mom!" The boy, Jamie, whined.

The woman ignored him, instead talking to James. "Yeah, Jamie. Problem with it?"

"You named him after me."

"No, I named him the name Judith used to call you."

"That's still my name, my flower," James chuckled.

Calla smiled slightly when the blonde man called her his flower. "That it is, Jimmy."

Jamie, Olivia, and the other young kids who had lived shorter lives than James looked between the two adults, confused.

"Mama, you know him?"

The woman pursed her lips and nodded. "I do, sweetie. A-"

"And it's her that I want." James interrupted before she could say anything else. The two adults looked sadly at each other as the older of the kids clasped their hands over their hearts.

"Aww!" Exclaimed one of them. "That's so romantic and sad! So she's your punishment?"

James shook his head. "I don't see her as my punishment," he told them, and Calla tilted her head slightly. The blonde man smiled slightly before continuing. "I see her as my greatest gift."

Calla's sad smile appeared a little happier at that, and James grinned.

"That's _sooo_ romantic," the girl who had said their situation was romantic before said again.

James chuckled and glanced at the kids. "Well, that does it for my story. You all should run along now and go see if your parents have passed Judgement, yet."

A chorus of "oo"'s erupted from the kids, and soon they were all springing up and running away towards the gates of Elysium, the adults that had been listening to James following at a slower pace, but still a bit excited at the thought of seeing their loved ones again. Calla stayed behind, and once the two were alone, they walked up to each other, James standing up to do so.

"Jimmy?"

"Yes, Cal?"

"Are you ever going to get the option of rebirth?"

He sighed. "Only after another four hundred or so years."

"'Four hundred years'?" Calla repeated, pain clear in her voice.

James nodded, lifting a hand, his palm facing towards Calla, and she did the same. They tried to put their hands together, to touch for the first time since they had both died, but they couldn't, a barrier keeping their hands four inches apart. But they didn't drop their hands from each other.

"Yes. It's only that way because Zavid's decision to ban me from camp influenced the councils decision when giving me the punishment."

"But what you did wasn't bad enough for punishment in death!"

"Cal... I stole things all throughout my life, I cheated on you, I got banned from our safe haven, I let a monster influence me, I killed my girlfriend, and on top of that, I killed our unborn child, who apparently wasn't going to be a sex leech like their mother. The council ruled that as unworthy of Elysium, but not bad enough for eternal punishment. Just barely, though. If I had done one thing worse, it would have been eternal. Just be glad that one day we'll be able to hold each other again, in a new life that we will live together in forever."

Calla sighed and looked down, nodding. "I know, Jimmy. It's just... I've already gone so long without you..."

"And I've gone longer without you," James pointed out. "I died before you, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember..."

"...But I'm willing to wait longer until I can be with you again. And in our next life together, I promise you that, even if I won't be able to remember this when we meet in our next life, I'm going to do my best to make you happier than I made you in our first one together."

Calla smiled slightly. "...Thank you, Jimmy."

James smiled as well. "You're welcome, my flower. I'll see you in another four hundred years, okay?"

"Why not tomorrow?"

"Because I need to make my future self worthy of our tomorrow together."

"It already is..."

"Not as much as I'd like to be."

Calla nodded. "Alright... But... You know more kids are going to want to hear your story next year..."

"You mean _our_ story, _my_ view of it," James corrected. "And I'd be more than happy to share it again if they ask."

Calla lit up at that. "So then I'm seeing you again next year...?"

James smiled slightly. "Looks like it."

"That's far better than in four hundred years... Thank you, James."

"You're welcome, my flower. I'll see you again next year, then."

"I'll wait till then."

James smiled again and nodded. He lowered his hand before taking a few steps back and walking away. Calla watched him for a little while before calling out his name. James stopped and turned back around, tilting his head questioningly at Calla.

Calla hesitated a while before speaking again. "I love you, Jimmy."

James smiled. "I love you, too, Cal. I'll see you again next year."

And so it went, the two past life lovers met up once a year to hear the telling of their story, until, eventually, they were both reborn, and fell in love again.

 **...**

 **End of story! :D**


	26. ANNOUNCMENT

**ATTENTION**

 **I'm currently working on revamping this story! Meaning that by or during the month of the start of the year 2017, this story will be up as a emnew/em story that will be longer, more descriptive, and overall better than the original. Taking a break from uploading EVERYTHING until then (some challenges and one shots will still be put up, though). Things to look forward to in the new versions of this story are:**

 **Fixes in grammatical errors**

 **Fixed typos**

 **Longer sentences**

 **Better sentence structures**

 **More words**

 **Less awkward endings**

 **More descriptive sentences**

 **More chapters**

 **More time and effort put into my work**

 **Yes, these changes will mean far fewer updates on everything, but only until I get into the groove of things. I won't be deleting any stories, just making the newer, fresher, cleaner versions of them into NEW stories, essentially permanently doubling my story count. The reason as to why I am doing this is because I feel my stories are not satisfactory length, and they lack depressingly in terms of vivid details and imagery. I'm hoping any of you guys who are still following this story will get the alert and be on the look out for its newer, better version on my profile.**

 **Thank you, and adieu.**

 **Ty**

 **P.S. NEVER USE SHIFTenter IN FFN DOCS. IT RUINS THE WHOLE THING**


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